Greek Death
by Goddess Bless
Summary: The BAU is called in by the University of Maine PD on a string of campus murders that have the community in shock. Hermione has been teaching there for years. Will romance spark between the two geniuses? SP/HG AUBK7
1. A Meeting

Chapter 1

Spencer tipped a beer back and let the somewhat bitter liquid slosh into his mouth. He had gone for the seasonal ale at a local brewery, and now was somewhat regretting this local business supporting choice. He was with the BAU in Orono, Maine trying to discover the killer of four undergrads that had left the University campus and surrounding areas frozen from fear rather than weather. The others were with him- somewhere. They had gone to a local party bar, The Dime he vaguely recalled the name. It was a rundown and horrible looking bar with barely any clean anything to speak of.

It was then that he saw her, sitting in the corner, obviously there against her own will and obviously miserably uncomfortable, but with a resigned look that only came from situations where friends try to do something great for friends. He felt within him something surge, a sense of comradery and kindred that struck him like nothing he had ever felt before. How many times had he been in a similar situation before he had learned to tolerate, if somewhat enjoy these outings with his colleagues and friends. Taking out a pocket mirror- you never know when you might need one- Spencer subtly flashed the lens back and forth in an attempt to catch any of the dim light and reflect it back at her.

This strange form of Morse code seemed to do the trick and she looked up. Suddenly nervous Spencer gave his best, 'I'm a nice guy- truly!' smile. The girl, from what he could tell a small boned yet slightly plump brunet with frizzy hair and an average way of dress, looked up at him before glancing at the table of her companions out of the corner of her eye. Excusing herself she stood and made her way to him, placing her clutch, a reasonably sized teal faux leather case, on the counter next to him she sat. "You have no idea how grateful I am to you right now."

Spencer grinned and something inside of his chest loosened, "Oh, I have an idea." They smiled at one another and then turned back to the counter a bartender, also female with dark hair and a slender build came over. The young woman- an undergrad most likely- placed something that looked strangely like lightly coloured coffee milk in front of the woman before walking away to check on other patrons. "Regular?"

She grimaced, "Regular enough, I suppose." 'She's English.' Spencer noticed dimly in the back of his mind. "I'm often dragged here by wishers of do wellers," She cast a slight look of despair and frustration back to her table. "I wish they would just let me stay in, however I am doomed to be forever be taken upon by their kind wishes and best intentions." She picked up the glass and took a sip.

"I'm Spencer, Spencer Reid." Spencer went to stick out his hand and then retracted it mid movement. "And you are?" He felt nervous again and took a sip of his ill tasting beer.

"Jane Erman." Jane ignored his awkward movement, for that he was grateful. "What are you doing here, Mr. Reid."

"I'm here for work, investigating the recent deaths of the students." A shadow overwhelmed her face and his heart clenched for her in an unusual sign and show of empathy.

"They were good kids. I knew two of them personally." Spencer's ears perked up with interest, so far there hadn't been any connection made between the students.

"Gone on," He prompted.

Jane looked embarrassed. "It's nothing really. I had one of the girls in my class, and the other introduced himself to me one day after a guest lecture I had done."

"That you had attended?"

Jane shook her head, "That I had done. I'm a professor at the University."

Spencer paused for a second and his mind went through a list of names of classes that were attributed to each victim. "Jane Erman, the Honors College professor."

She nodded and took another small sip of her drink, "Rather than calling us 'professors' in this small classroom settings we call ourselves 'Preceptors' and our classes, 'Preceptorials'. They are small classroom settings with no more than twelve or thirteen students to a group. As preceptors it is our job, and most of the time our privilege and joy to facilitate conversations and learning, rather than teach."

"But you're so young." He blurted out the statement before his brain could process and filter.

She laughed, thankfully and he internally remarked on how he liked the laugh, "I'm thirty-two I'll have you know."

There was no way that this creature was thirty-two. There was no way she was older than twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Spencer took a closer look at her and was still unable to believe that this woman was as old as she said she was. She laughed again at his silence and scrutiny.

"Yes, truly. The big three four- I know! It's hard to believe, however I will show you my vehicle card if I must."

"No, no there's no need for that." Spencer said quickly and took another swing of his liquid encouragement. "If you wouldn't mind, would you please tell me about the victims? As you knew them of course."

She nodded slowly, "I will, but this is not how I expected to spend my time when I walked over here." She laughed when he opened his mouth to try to change the subject and held up her hand. "The girl, Maira Sanchez, eighteen headstrong, passionate in some areas, absolute rubbish in others. Last semester I had her for honors one-eleven, that is the first of a four class, four semester sequence called Civilizations: Past, Present, and Future." She paused, collecting her thoughts,

"We read ten books? Eleven books? I per week." She paused again to think, "In addition we had a week studying art. She was fascinated by the art, Roman and Greek sculptures and other various artistic items from that period of time. I believe she only read, maybe, four books out of the rest of the class. Not that I blame her, some of them are dreadful, we try to change the curriculum, really we do, but who is to way what books are to go and what books are to stay without stepping on toes?"

She read, let me think. Fragments of Sappho, a translation of the works of the poet Sappho as they were found and restored from their previous burned and deformed sources. She read The Symposium, which is a Greek play type work that was the scene of great thinking and reflections on love and whatnot. Surprisingly she read the Dao De Jing, the book of the way, it just seemed so serious and so not her. She liked more frilly things you see, things with love and light. She also read the parts of the Bible that were selected for reading." Jane paused,

"She was an avid Catholic, you know. Very devout, but with a good head on her shoulders. I believe she was in the CCC." At his questioning look she explained, "That's the Campus Crusade for Christ. They aren't my cup of tea. Most of them are nice, but my lot is in with the gays and a few years back, before my time of course, some members of the CCC destroyed the LGBTQA rooms. Things have changed since then, but I guess old wounds are hard to heal especially when someone who is overzealous comes along." She paused again. "I believe she was dating one of them."

Spencer's ears perked, they hadn't been able to find a boyfriend yet, but the girl had a single so it was not a surprise that not much was known about her. "He's in that group, he's a bit weird but I get a good vibe from him. His name I believe is Duncan, Duncan Fletcher."

Spencer spoke up, "How do you know so much about your students?"

Jane blushed slightly, or at least he thought so since it was moderately dark in the bar, "Staff, faculty, and students from this school are known for having personal relationships with one another. I guess it's because we're locked up in a big cold tin can for seven months out of the year, if we don't bond we'll just hack each other to death from boredom and desperation for action."

Spencer frowned slightly; he didn't like the analogy of death so close to the latest killing but there was not much he could do about that. She spoke again.

"Maira was nice, quiet. She spoke quite harshly though against the heavy criticizers of her religion, but she wasn't a fool about it. I liked her."

"And the boy?" He questioned, there was only one boy out of the four killings. "How well did you know him?"

Jane took a drink, larger this time than what he had observed her to normally take. This, of course, was a flag to him that this person had meant a great deal more to her. "Regi, Reginald Yiswic." She sighed and swished her drink inside the glass, a soothing motion. "Regi was a character. Smart, funny, sharp as whip really. He didn't have the greatest people skills, but then again I can't really say anything about that."

"You were lovers." Spencer inferred and was shocked at her violent reaction, the quiet and yet barely controlled slamming down of the glass onto the counter.

"Absolutely not." Her tone was so flat, so earnest, and so absolutely pissed that he believed her hands down. "I was over ten years his senior." The anger abated over a few seconds of silence. "If I had been younger, or he older- maybe, possibly." She paused, "Definitely. But I would never, and neither would he. We were simply two people born too far apart from each other for it to work out. But we were friends you see. Good friends. I lectured in his anthropology class, a-n-t one- twenty, World Religions. I lectured about mythology and the older religions of the world. He was fascinated. We," He saw how sad she was, his heart clenched again, "We clicked."

"He went to Egypt with me last year as my research assistant, we did work on studies about the Venus statues. It was a paid internship and we did quite well. His thirst for knowledge about classics and mythology and ancient religions matched no ones, but my own. His passion was my passion. We could have become lovers, but we didn't. A part of my now wonders if maybe my judgment on age had been too rash and too soon. But then again, my mind was made up."

He had a bit of a gambling problem. He never played with real money, of course, but he was always on his computer playing this poker game or that poker game. He would go to Texas Hold'em nights on campus. Even the campus recreation supported Bingo games."

"How can you be so sure he didn't gamble using money?" Spencer was curious and an idea was forming in his mind.

"Because, I know- I knew him very well Mr. Reid and I would appreciate it if you would trust my judgment. This has nothing to do with his murder, if you spent your efforts looking there you are wasting valuable time."

They paused, both tense. "Tell me more," Spencer at last instructed her.

"What else is there to say? Regi loved school, loved campus and hardly ever ventured outside the school grounds. He had a roommate, some horrible young man who hardly ever went to classes and spent his time playing World of Warcraft. He dominated their living space. I can't tell you how many times I have come into my office, small as it may be, to find Regi sleeping on my floor in a sleeping bag." She paused again, "I wouldn't look there either."

Spencer grew somewhat frustrated, "Then what should we look for?"

"The first killing was four months ago, a girl. Two weeks later, it was another girl, time passes, Maira showed up during finals week. And finally, "He voice shook, "Regi was found four days ago. It must be a student, there was no killing over Thanksgiving break, and then there was two weeks between Thanksgiving break and finals week. He or she must have been busy with classes, and then he must have gone home over the winter holiday break. He just got back into the swing of things with new classes and now that he is comfortable again he killed."

"You went from gender neutral he/she to a definite male pronoun. You think that the unsub is male?"

"Unsub?" Jane questioned.

"Unknown subject." Jane made an 'ah' expression and then replied.

"This just screams male to me. The first crime was passion, maybe an accident. The second crime was maybe, I don't know, a distraction from the first. Then he started to enjoy killing, he enjoys the rush he gets and the feeling of power he has over the campus. He chose his dump areas very specifically. Outside the ROTC office in the memorial gym, where athletes and military men could see her, so he was probably bullied as a youth. The second was in the middle of the union, some place where everyone goes to congregate. The third was hidden; I don't know how he hid the body on the sound panels that hang from the roof of room one hundred Neville. But that is our biggest classroom with nearly four hundred seats."

Regi was left cooking" Her voice choked and broke. "Cooking in ovens that had been mysteriously turned on in the Hilltop eating commons."

"How did you know that? That information wasn't released." Jane gave Spencer a look.

"This is an institution built on gossip, Mr. Reid. If word didn't get around about things and everyone stopped talking buildings would collapse, as there would be not hot air keeping them up. As it is, the workers at Hilltop who found his body spread the word around. He's going for places where he can instill the most fear and dominance. Places that are highly frequented and are hubs of activity."

Spencer studied this woman intently as she spoke. She sounded like one of them, not some professor. "What is your degree in?" Jane blushed hotly, enough for him to notice in the poorly lit room.

"I have a few. My undergraduate degrees are English, Philosophy, and European thought and literature. I have two masters, one again in English and another in Psychology. I have two doctorates in Classics and Behavioral Psychology."

"And you are thirty-two."

"And I'm thirty-two. And I don't like being scrutinized." They met eyes for a moment.

"I'm thirty. And I have three PhDs, one in Engineering, another in Chemistry, and one in Mathematics. I have bachelors in psychology and sociology." Jane grinned at him.

"Anything else in that head of yours?"

Spencer found himself grinning back, "I'm working on a bachelors in Philosophy."

The tension that had arisen during their somewhat informal interview dissipated and they spent the rest of the night talking in a way that Spencer didn't talk to many people, let alone women. The part of him that truly respected this incredible young woman didn't wan to analyze her, but with every glance, every touch of his sleeve Spencer was working his mental magic.

'She likes me!' He thought incredulously, though he was careful to school his facial expressions away from that knowledge. He studied his own unadulterated body reactions and behaviors and was surprised to find himself liking her as well. He would leave his ideas of whether or not this was a good thing for later and simply just enjoyed her company.

"I think I should get going," She finally stood, Spencer stood with her, though he couldn't really explain why.

"You've been drinking, maybe you shouldn't drive." She seemed completely sober to him, but Spencer was nearly desperate to continue talking to her. Jane smiled at him and his heart stopped momentarily.

Holding up her glass to him she replied, "My sole drink of the night had a half a tea spoon of Bailey's Irish Crème. The rest is milk." Finishing the last sip she grabbed her clutch and looked around at the closing bar. Her friends had left sometime earlier, though neither of them had noticed. "I bet I have less alcohol in my system than you do." She paused and looked him over before reaching into her clutch; a brief glance inside showed a meticulously kept interior. Jane pulled out a business card and handed it to Spencer. He studied it briefly and noted various contact information's were available such as email, that he had no use for, phone, and a physical address of her office on campus: 210 Little Hall.

"Come visit me, if you'd like. I enjoyed our little conversation." Spencer's head pounded with extreme emotion and he nodded.

"I'd like that."


	2. A Chance

Chapter 2

A knock on her open doorway had Hermione looking up from the text that she was translating. The man from the previous night was there and despite herself Hermione felt a huge smile break across her face. She stood, "Mr. Ried, come in." The office was tiny, a closet really with three desks and four bookshelves squashed in there, each one brimming and with excess of papers and books. There were only two chairs, the one that she sat in and the other a canary yellow business chair that could have come straight from the seventies.

The clutch was so obviously neat because she needs the order in her life, a comparison to this office Ried noted internally. "Know any place that does a nice coffee around here?" Hermione stood and removed her jacket, a well-worn puffy black winter coat from the back of her chair. Ried, who had moved into the doorway at her biddence now found himself very close to her as she leaned close to him in order to grab her scarf that hung from the lone wooden and slightly unstable coat holder. She pulled back.

"I might know a place or two. Shall we?" Ried backed out of the office, as there was hardly room to turn around, and waited as she closed the door snugly behind them and locked it. On her now closed door Ried noted that there was a plethora of various astute articles, as well as an office hours schedule and a large assortment of mostly classy, but some ill tasting comic strip cut outs. They turned to the left and began down the hall towards a set of metal double doors.

"You know, you could have warned me about this building. I nearly got lost you know." Hermione grinned up at him and in doing so she noticed just how much taller her was than she had previously thought, a whole head.

"Did you almost go to the mezzanine level?" Ried nodded and reached forward to open the door for her. Hermione's chest swelled, considerate, good looking, and smart. They entered a stairwell and walked past the stairs heading to an upper level and turned left to go down. "It can be confusing." They had reached a landed, Ried's cursed area of mystery, the mezzanine level. Passing it they continued to head down. At the bottom they found themselves in a small separating chamber, straight ahead there were doors that lead to the main part of the building and the four main classrooms.

To their immediate left was a set of brown painted metal double doors that lead to the outside. Hermione took them that way and the pair found themselves wedged in a small walking area between the South Stevens Hall and Little Hall. Turning right she lead them towards the mall, or large grassland that made up the center of campus. Hermione barely noticed when Ried wasn't beside her; he had taken a moment to examine the crudely graphitized yellow and black banana that some hooligan had spray painted onto one of the safety anti-rape blue light poles.

These poles were meant to keep the campus safe, anyone who was under attack only needed to press the emergency button on the front panel of the pole and the light at the top would start flashing blue. All police cars within the area would then respond, an ambulance was guaranteed to be there within two minutes. She was passing Center Stevens Hall (all the Stevens Halls were in a row with South being the most left and North being the furthermost right, closest to the Memorial Union) when he finally ran to catch up with her.

"You could have waited." He said almost grumpily and Hermione internally grinned.

"You could have kept up." They were flirting, and but she and he knew it, though neither would admit it. At four-way intersection they turned right, towards a large and imposing building with large stone steps and a stone walkway.

"The library has good coffee?" Ried asked with an incredulous tone of voice.

Hermione looked at him with a bemused expression, "Where else would you want to receive the best coffee, but in a place where you would need it the most. And it is not really _in_ the library per say, there is a café in this building."

"Your library has a café." There was that incredulous tone again. "In the middle of Maine?" Hermione's eye internally twitched. Yes, this was place was basically out in the middle between East Bumfuck and Absolute Rats Ass Nowhere, but that didn't mean there was no civilization here. They even had a mall with a Charlotte Russe for Pete's sake, and if that wasn't civilization then she would dress as the school mascot Bananas the Bear for the rest of her semester's lectures.

She shoved him. Completely immature, she knew, but it just felt so good to relieve herself of this frustration and tension if only momentarily. Ried lost his balance and fell into a pile of snow, it did snow up there from basically the end of October until May. She giggled at first at his expression of pure shock and disbelief, but couldn't help the squeal when he pulled her down next to him in the snow. Hermione was lucky that she had gone for just the nice sweater and jeans look for her office hours today, normally she taught in skirts. Thus, she sat in the snow bank staring at him with the same shocked expression that he had given her. The moment ended when a student longboarded by and the grating sound of skateboard wheels on melting salts stirred them. They stood and continued up the flight of stairs, across the causeway, Hermione pulled him to a stop just beyond the doors when he would have just walked right through.

Silently she pointed up, snow seemed ready to converge over the edge and long icicles hung dangerously from over head. They paused momentarily, and then entered. Ried cursed himself silently for being too caught up in his own mind to not see the danger signs that hung on the buildings warning to pause and keep a radius before entering. Hermione reached forward and opened the door for him and she was pretty sure that Ried gave her the most blinding smile ever.

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"Yo, come here. Check this out." Derek Morgan called to his fellow FBI agents, he was standing by the window a little ways behind one of the big oak desks in the College of Liberal Arts office on the first floor of Stevens, or Center Stevens hall. The others of the team came from around the office to stare out the window with him. It was Ried; he was running to catch up with a pretty brunette. When he caught up she smiled at him.

"I recognize her." Rossi exclaimed from the back and the others turned to watch him. "She was at the bar last night. Those two talked for nearly four hours." He got shocked looking responses back.

"Ried never talks to anyone for that long unless it's Gideon." Rossi stepped through the crowd up to the window and they all watched how the woman playfully pushed Ried into the snow and to their surprise, pulled her down next to him. It was like watching two fools in love, completely oblivious to the world around them. The two went up the stairs to the library, paused before the doors and then went in.

"Boy genius in love well, coloured me surprised." Derek moved away from the window and back over to the door that led to the hallway, a small shelving unit was there and on top of it was the most delicious bowl of sweets, Derek grabbed two of each candy.

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Spencer and Jane stood in line in the tidy and decently sized café. The floor was a linoleum tile, but the walls were made out of a beautiful oak with matching beams in the ceiling. Large glass umbrella chandeliers hung periodically down the center of the room. Spencer looked around and noted that inlaid in many of the wall space were built in glass display cabinets.

"Steins." He remarked to Jane, surprise evident in his voice. She turned her head to look at him from her place beside him.

"The school is known for it, our school song is 'The Stein Song'. It was-"

"Once a billboard chart topper. In the fifties I believe." Jane shot him an appreciative look.

"Nicely done, I like a man who does research." Spencer's cheeks flared hotly and he found himself adjusting the too tight collar on his button on.

"Yes, well. In college I was often too young to experience what most undergrads did, so I researched colleges and what college was historically about." They were at the front of the line now, Jane was handed a plastic covered paper cup with a cardboard sleeve and she handed over a small travel mug that she had produced from one of the pockets in her coat.

"I would also like a hot chocolate, three fourths hot chocolate, one fourth pumpkin spice coffee. And, of course whatever my friend here wants." Spencer sputtered.

"There's no need, I can get my own coffee." Jane stayed his arm that had reached for his wallet.

"This wouldn't be a date if someone wasn't buying, and since I'm the more forward out of the two of us, I'll pay." Spencer's vision blacked around the edges and he found it hard to breathe. Hearing was lost on him, and he hadn't returned to his senses until a large paper cup in a cardboard sleeve was pressed into his hands.

Still in shock Spencer let Jane lead him past the pastry glass case and over to a counter in front of a window. The counter housed all sorts of coffee mates and other coffee paraphernalia. He realized that Jane was speaking; "Now since you've gone and become mister silent I went and ordered you a large house blend, you do your own sugar and milk of course."

Spencer went through the motions of filling his coffee with a seemingly endless stream of sugar before letting himself be pulled over, through many closely related wooden and metal tables with black chairs until she reached a sent of unoccupied black squishy arm chairs against the wall the contained tall windows that reached the ceiling, they sat.

Jane and Spencer were quiet for a while; each staring into their drink of choice until Jane crossed left food behind her right ankle and turned her body to face him on the couch. She didn't look up from her drink, "I'm sorry. I just thought that. Well, you know, the way we talked last night and then you took my card and how you showed up at my office." She looked close to tears as she pressed a hand to her cheek. "I'm sorry, I must have interpreted the signs wrong. I thought that you. I mean." She went silent again.

"I do." Spencer surprised himself, and obviously Jane judging by how fast her head whipped up.

There was a pause and then, "You do?"

Spencer found himself nodding. "I do."

The silence descended upon them again until Jane spoke, "So, is this a date?"

Spencer stopped and thought for a moment. "Yes, I suppose it is a date." His chest choked with such raw emotion and excitement that for a moment he found it hard to breathe, and it seemed as though Jane was feeling the same way. Jane finished her first drink and then opened up her travel mug, which seemed to have been returned to her at some point and took a sip of it.

"Did you request that, that canister be filled with pumpkin coffee and hot chocolate?" Jane smiled brightly and swallowed a sip before answering.

"Absolutely, and don't knock it before you try it." Spencer decided to take a leap, if she was going to be bold, so was he.

"May I?" Jane paused, obviously startled before smoothing it over as though nothing had happened.

"Of course, if you don't mind my germs." She passed him the mug.

Spencer sniffed the drink experimentally before bringing it to his lips, this would be the most intense session of flirting he had ever attempted and hopefully it would be successful. With difficulty, he didn't like maintaining eye contact with anyone; Spencer held Jane's eyes and said, "If I minded your germs, I wouldn't be on a date with you." Before taking a deep sip.

His statement had an instant and very visible reaction: her face lit up so hotly that Spencer idly wondered if he colour would match the American flag. Her hands twitched and her face contained so much shock that if words could kill, Jane would be very dead.

The drink itself also caught his interest: he liked it. The smooth taste of hot chocolate, but also this heat, this spice that he couldn't really identify, but it magnetized the overall properties of the drink and he found himself taking another tiny sip. It was obvious that neither knew how to continue after a statement like that. Neither of them were good socially, and neither knew how to flirt or continue a conversation after flirting.

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"Did you catch that?" Derek asked Emily Prentiss from their seat at a round table by the cold drink refrigerators.

"No, but whatever he said he sure was Casanova about it. I mean, look at that reaction. She wants to jump his pants right here and now."

Derek Morgan shot her a partially disgusted look, "Don't ever, ever say anything like that ever again." Prentiss just shrugged.

"We should get out of here, before we're caught." Derek nodded and they slunk discretely out of the Oaks Room.

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"Have you learned anything more?" The question startled Spencer quite thoroughly, and he wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"No, not really." In a rare act of frustration, maybe because he now felt connected to the case, his ran his fingers through his hair. "We can't figure out how he chooses his victims, where he does the initial attack and kill, and how he is getting everywhere without getting caught."

Jane was quiet for a moment. "I have a few theories," she said at last almost unsure.

Spencer slumped his chair and took a sip of his coffee. "Anything at this point would be better than what we have."

"I know where he will dump his next victim."

That caught Spencer's attention and he sat up more fully in his chair. "Where?"

Jane fidgeted now, obviously nervous, "Well, not the exact place. But a list of places." Spencer made a 'go on' gesture, urging her to continue. "Well, there's here. Though this room is always locked after hours, it is still one of the most popular places on campus, either here or in the large quiet reading room."

Spencer put a hand on her knee and leaned towards her, "Anywhere else?"

Jane looked flustered again, only this was his doing and not her nerves about the information, though releasing her leg now would fair worse on her nerves. "The mall, we're having an igloo building seminar and lecture on Wednesday."

'You've got to be kidding me,' Spencer thought idly. 'They are really out in the middle of no where when they learn to build igloos for fun.'

"There are two more places, the rec center, it's the big glass gym up next to Hilltop. It's always busy as it is not only the school gym, but the community one as well. Finally," She paused, "Finally there is the Alfond. It is the ice skating arena on campus. The facility is used by the community, and also for ice hockey and basketball games." Spencer offered her a confused look.

"The ice is covered by plywood, nice plywood of course, and on top of that a basketball floor is put in. Kind of like the Boston Garden." He gave her a blank look, "The Boston Garden? T.D. Banknorth Garden?" He continued to give her that blank look, though in her face he saw her decide to pass over that particular subject, "There's a three game header this weekend at home. We're facing BU. It'll be a dog house- literally, they're the BU Bulldogs."

"And you're certain he'll strike there?"

"Absolutely, those are the most heavily trafficked areas on campus." Spencer jumped up; this might be the team's big break. He fought a conflict with a part of himself before leaning down and pausing next to her face. Maintaining eye contact until it was silly to, Spencer slowly kissed Jane's cheek and pulled away. "I'd like to see you again, soon. Tonight."

Jane, breathless and pink nodded, "I'd like that." Spencer smiled brightly backed away waving his coffee in the air as he attempted to wave 'good-bye'.

"I'll call you! I'll call you tonight!" Spencer tripped over someone's computer chord and nearly landed on the bagel toaster oven before turning around and scampering out of the café.

Rossi, who had seen the whole thing smiled, 'Way to go, Casanova.'


	3. A Trap

Chapter 3

The BAU had set up shop in a room that was in the basement of the Memorial Union. It was just down the stairs in front of the Wade Center (the center and offices for student run groups) and to the left, another right landed them right in front of the room labeled, 'Multi-Purpose Room'. Usually there was a daily printed sheet of paper with the room schedule of who had it when, however until this investigation was finished there would be no groups but the BAU in it.

Spencer pulled open one of the glass and wooden double doors before stepping through and slinging his messenger bag over into a corner by the paper and folder covered upright piano. "I have an idea where the killer is going to dump the next body." Hotch looked up from his reading material and raised an eyebrow.

"Where might that be Dr. Reid."

Spencer strode over to the large white board that had a map of the campus taped to it. Picking up a green marker he denoted three locations with an asterisk. "Here, here, and here." He pointed to the three locations and closed his marker. "The library, the mall- there's a igloo building seminar happening in the upcoming week, and finally the Alfond."

"The skating arena?" Prentiss asked standing to get a better look at the map.

Spencer nodded, "There's three games happening there this weekend, against the school's arch hockey rivals."

Derek looked at the map and at the denoted places whilst spinning a pen rapidly through his fingers, "Where in the library? That place is huge, plus there are lots of secret passages and half floors that no one really knows about anymore since they built the new addition."

"Either in the Oaks Room, that's the little coffee café in it, or in the quiet reading room on the opposite side of the building, though still on the first floor. Both are heavily trafficked by students, visitors, and faculty." Everyone was silent as they contemplated the information before them.

"When is the igloo building thing happening?" Rossi asked eventually.

"Wednesday."

"So, since today is Monday we have today and tomorrow to stop a killer." Hotch stood and threw a Touchstone orange bouncy ball into the air before catching it.

"And we're sure that the unsub will hit there?"

Spencer shrugged, "This is where I would hit, then the hockey game. It is just too good and easy to pass up."

"Do you think that this guy will strike again, so soon?" Derek asked finally.

Hotch shrugged, "I don't know. The unsub seems to be getting more sporadic-"

"Yes, I have a theory." Spencer interrupted Hotch, "I believe that the first killing might have been an accident. There were no defensive wounds on the victim, suggesting that the victim knew the assailant. He or she might have left the body in the Memorial Gym as a way to try to pin the blame on someone else. Military students, or athletes could be seen as more violent and more likely to commit a crime and not clean it up."

The second killing, it is possibly that he or she felt the pressure of the investigation and killed the second victim, someone random, to throw off suspicion."

"Or onto someone else." Gideon spoke from the doorway, surprising them all.

"What are you doing here?" Derek asked the older man while standing.

"I was contacted, I know a few people who teach at this school and they are not liking their students in danger, and since I was in the area I thought I'd stop by."

Gideon was clapped on the back by his former colleagues met Hotch's eyes when they finally stood in front of each other. "In the area Gideon?"

Gideon smiled at him the same strange smile that he always did, "Snowmobiling. I figure that it is safer than sky diving at any rate."

Gideon put his stuff down and sat in a vacant chair. "Please, continue with your analysis, don't let my presence change things."

Spencer looked at him and then at Hotch, when Hotch nodded he continued, "The second victim was found in room one-hundred in the hall Neville. This room is either the biggest or the second biggest lecture space on campus with 350 seats. There was no real reason for this killing, her body did not show signs of show signs of the tender care that the first victim had. When the unsub cut the finger nails of the first victim, it was neat as though he or she was showing remorse and didn't want to hurt her.

"The clipping of the second victim's nails, post mortem like the first girl, took small chucks out of her skin, they weren't even. The cutting of these nails was just routine, so that he wouldn't get caught. It is evident that he cared about the first victim and not about the second. After the first two, he or she just couldn't stop, it became an addiction with each murder getting more and more bold." Spencer paused, "More violent."

The BAU with the help of Gideon bounced ideas for the rest of the afternoon. At seven Spencer found himself standing outside of what was becoming a very familiar room. The door was open and his heart raced when he noticed she had changed into a feminine knee length golden skirt that had flowers seemingly painted on it in a variety of colours. She was standing tiptoe in brown flats and reached with a golden sweater covered arm for a book that was just out of the reach of her short stature. Not waiting for an invitation Spencer entered the office and tried to help her with the book.

The book was up further than he expected and Spencer was forced to push his body firmly against hers in order to reach it. Electricity shot through him and he almost dropped the book. Rapidly retreating he held out the book for Jane. She turned to face him, her hands pressed to the bookshelf behind her almost unsure of how to react. Her face was a flushed pink colour that made her skin seem to glow, Spencer was torn but found himself stepping closer.

Without notice Spencer dropped the book onto the nearby canary yellow chair and hesitantly reached up his hands to her face. Cupping it gently, Spencer was struck by how she just seemed to shimmer to him, shine really with a certain light in her eyes that he didn't think physically possible. Leaning down he waited for a breath of a moment before softly placing his lips against hers.

Lighting once again struck and it was as though a switch had been turned on, they were gripping clothing and tugging at tucked in shirts. It was incredible- it was insanity and Spencer found himself unable to control his reasoning, or want to for that matter. A door slammed from down the hallway and the sound startled them into control of themselves. Spencer once again found himself retreating from her, but instead of feeling nervous he took the time to study his work.

Was this how a serial killer felt upon seeing his or her victim? He thought almost morbidly as he studied her wrinkled and partially unbuttoned gold sweater. Beneath he could see the white camisole shirt that he had fought with to feel her skin. A sense of pride and sexual pleasure raced through him as he observed her flushed face and what he understood to be the term 'bruised' lips. She bit the lower one with hesitation.

"That was," She started but couldn't continue.

"Intense." Spencer finished in that helpful tone that he used often when discussing scenarios with his colleagues. She nodding and they continued to exam what each one had done to the other. Spencer took in his raised sweater vest and untucked button down shirt. His hair he knew to be quite in disarray so he reached up his hair to smooth it down. Her hair was worse than his so he reached forward and fixed it. With a slight pressure on her shoulder he turned her around to face the bookshelf.

With skilled and well-practiced motions he unclipped her Celtic knot hairpiece and then repositioned her hair back into place before redoing the barrette. He turned her back around and examined his work, hair that once stood out at odd angles now tucked neatly away in a half up, half down way. "My mother used to wear her hair like this." Self-consciously Jane reached up a hand and touched her hair.

"Do you like it?"

Spencer nodded, "It didn't look nearly as good on her as it does on you."

Jane blushed and lowered her hands to smooth out her skirt.

"Would you like a tour of the building?" Jane finally asked unable to stand the silence.

Spencer smiled, relieved that he didn't have to start an awkward conversation. What exactly does one say to another after they had made out as intensely as they had? "I would like that," Shyly, Spencer held out a hand for her to take. "May I?"

"Spencer, it's not that I don't like you." Spencer's heart dropped, Jane must have noticed because she grabbed his hand with both of hers. "No, no!" She got closer to him, "I do like you. A," She paused, her face a pretty pink. "A lot, Spencer. It's just that this is my work place. I don't want to give anyone the wrong opinion of me; I'm young here and-" Spencer's heart lifted and his smiled stopped her words. His other hand rested over hers.

"I understand completely." Jane smiled brightly at him and they separated. They then walked through the halls, after Jane shut and locked her door. Finally after seeing more of the building than the students saw Jane brought him into the second to last classroom on the first floor.

"This is room 120, it's the biggest lecture hall in this building. Jane held the door open for him and they stepped into the dark. The door shut behind them and Jane grabbed a hold of Spencer's hand and led him down the stairs of the large amphitheatre style hall. Once at the bottom she strode to the left and flicked on the lights, it took a moment and Spencer closed his eyes in time not to be blinded as they came on.

Upon opening his eyes he saw that he was in a nicely done lecture hall with relatively new seats with small tables attached to them. "This is nice," He remarked while dragging his hand across the grey seat with dark blue cushions.

Jane nodded, "These kids don't know how good they have it with facilities like this."

Spencer nodded; this was something they both could relate to, as they were people of education. He made his way over to her and she shut off the lights. Darkness encompassed them and Jane grabbed his hand to lead him out only to slip, later they would surmise it was because of an ill placed piece of chalk (one of the professors was known for throwing chalk, so Jane knew exactly who to blame).

Spencer caught her and they stumbled blindly backwards into a small alcove at the front of the room where the teacher's entrance and exit door was. Hitting the wall Spencer's air was knocked from him and they slid to the floor. Limbs were tangled and he could hear Jane laughing softly at their mess. Her torso shook slightly in his arms as her laughter increased and Spencer realized that his arms were firmly around her waist.

Jane turned to look back at him in the dark room and with their eyes adjusting to the darkness they could clearly see how close their faces were. She leaned in and her eyes fluttered shut, his eyes followed suit and they were once again lost in the feeling of each other. This time, though the feeling was stronger. That switch that had been flipped could now not be turned off. This was what happened when two people deny themselves pleasure of the flesh for many years, when he or she finally finds someone suitable to be with the dam that keeps these wants and needs in check vanishes and a flood of sexual hunger consumes them.

It was not in either of their natures to do this, if either of them were remotely aware this situation would not be happening. As it was neither Jane nor Spencer knew each other very well and in all likelihood, it would have taken them months or possibly years to get this far in their relationship. Something was different, the circumstances were not the same and for once the two levelheaded people threw caution to the wind.

Spencer gasped as Jane licked and nibbled his neck, the feeling was so sensual and so erotic that he nearly came without even being touched. Not that he would tell anyone, but he was a virgin and in his long memory he had never gone this far with any person ever. "Jane." Her name came out so throaty and husky that he almost doubted that it came from him. "Jane, you need to stop." She gripped him through his trousers and he couldn't hold it anymore. His body convulsed and he came harshly in his own pants, no doubt dampening the crouch area. He arched into her and she held him tightly to her, not wanting to miss this moment.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He was nearly crying. He knew that premature ejaculation was common among men who were not used to being sexually active, however he felt as though he had failed her in some way. Spencer felt rather than saw Jane cuddle him to her and stroked his sweat soaked hair.

"You have nothing to apologize for Spencer."

"But, I-"

"But nothing." She smile down at him and kissed his mouth sensually. When had they turned around? "You are beautiful." She kissed him again, "I wouldn't change a thing, even if I could."

"Do you want me to?" Spencer left the question hanging, even though his sexual drive had been met, and he no longer felt controlled by his sexual impulses he still felt the need to give her what she had given him. Spencer saw her struggle with an answer and so he took matters into his own hands. Lifting up her white camisole, where did her sweater go? Spencer ran his fingers along her torso and felt her shudder under his touch.

Putting his lips to her skin he kissed her neck softly at first, but when he heard her breath hitch in her throat Spencer parted his lips and kissed her neck harder with an open mouth. Her breathing stopped entirely and she gripped his arm tighter than he knew she realized. The door at the top slammed open and the two fell silent and still.

With as little movement as possible both turned to see a male figure, average in height while physically fit come down the stairs in nearly complete darkness. He was carrying something large and heavy, nearly too heavy for him as his movements showed he struggled. It was a body, barely thinking Spencer jumped to his feet and drew his gun from where it rested on his belt.

"Stop where you are!" The person froze and then dropped the body and ran away up the stairs. Spencer ran after him only to stop at the body, torn. As he paused the assailant ran out the door. Jane was next to him, back in her sweater miraculously.

"Stay with her, I'll go after him." She stood, but Spencer caught her wrist, his heart in his throat.

"I can't let you go after him, he's a killer."

Jane smiled grimly down at him, "I don't fear him, Spencer. If anything he should fear me." She wrenched her wrist from his hand and ran up the stairs and exited. Spencer was torn and stood slightly before resigning himself and taking his cellphone out of his pocket to call the team.

"Hotch." Spencer's voice cracked despite his trying to remain at ease.

"What is it Reid, are you alright?" Spencer knew his tone of voice obviously disturbed his team leader, but couldn't find the will to control it.

"I almost caught the killer, Hotch. I had him."

"Where are you?" The voice on the other end was panicked.

"I'm in Little Hall, room 120. Hotch, Jane went after him I, I had to stay with the body."

There was silence, "The body?" Hotch asked finally.

"I couldn't leave her, if I left evidence could be lost or tampered with. And Jane couldn't stay with the body because she's not FBI and," Spencer's voice cracked from the raw emotion.

"I'll be there, do a preliminary examination, and Reid?" Spencer stayed silent, he just couldn't answer right now. Hotch seemed to understand, "She'll be fine Reid."

Hotch informed him to stay on the line as he gathered the team and headed to his location. Putting the phone on speaker Spencer examined the body as best as he could before standing and switching on the lights. With the lights on Spencer noted at the victim was a pretty undergrad, twenty at most with blonde hair and somewhat modest clothing. She was bloody from a large hole in her upper torso, most likely cause of death like the other victims. Her eyes, vacant, stared back at him and he had to look away.

He couldn't believe he had let Jane run out of there like that. She could be killed, or worse! He knew that she hated the unsub, because he had killed her would be lover. His throat clenched, what if that all he was to her, something to rebound off of. Spencer shook his head, he didn't know much about her, but he could tell that this was something more than that, he would trust her. Something flashed, a reflection of light off of a necklace on the coed's chest, it was remarkably free of any blood. He didn't have gloves, but something compelled him to pick up the charm, it was a Greek word that he didn't recognize, maybe Jane would help him later. Putting the charm back down after realizing he might have compromised evidence, Spencer was struck with dizziness and everything went black.


	4. A Deceit

Chapter 4

Hermione followed the killer, he was fast however she was in better shape and knew how to chase a suspect on foot. Finally catching up with him he turned around to stare at her. They were in between two buildings, just beyond the parking lot that served Little and the Stevens buildings. To her right was an engineering building, across a memorial that housed a metal sculpture of what looked like thick chicken wire put at an angle with a large church bell built into the side of it Hermione could see Neville, a primarily English and Math building. To her left she knew there to be another building, he would have to leave this area on foot as he had run past the parking lot and there was no through way for a car to exit from around here.

"Stop. I order you." Her tone was one that she hadn't used since the War. Hermione thought that he smirked at her, though he couldn't see due to a hood hiding his face. He was wearing a black sweatshirt hoodie with the Greek letters for Delta Tau Delta, more commonly known as DTD. The sweatshirt seemed to swallow him due to the excessive size of it, and she noticed his right sleeve was embellished with his brother number, a number unique to only him in the entire nation wide fraternity. The number read like a bad story, 103181. Her breath caught in her chest, that number when broken up read the date that changed wizarding world history.

"That's not who you are." She said finally. Hermione could feel his arrogance. "I know the boy that belongs to that number, he is much larger than you." That number belonged to the brother Philip Gastrone, she knew it was his number because it was in his email signature, 'Proud Brother number 103181 of Delta Tau Delta'.

"Yes, but you'll never figure out who I am." That voice, she knew that voice but couldn't pinpoint it. "Now, I would get back to that agent of yours."

"Why?" Hermione asked cautiously taking a step forward, maybe she could wandlessly disable him and then wipe his memory of it. She hated fixing memories, but he had killed five innocent muggles already.

"Because that slut is wearing Lyonius' necklace." Hermione turned and ran, leaving the murderer to flee. She ran harder than she had ever run in her entire life and slammed into the outside door of Little Hall. Gripping both handles of the metal French doors she pulled with all of her might, they wouldn't budge. No one would be in the building at this point. She started crying and finally gave in the urge of using magic.

With a silent spell the doors unlocked and she flew through them in order to reach Spencer, there was no way she would let him die. Wrenching opening the door to the room she could see that he had collapsed and heard the voice from the cell phone next to him asking for status. Unable to help herself she whispered, "Spencer." Racing down the stairs to him she knelt hastily by his side. Touching his forward she could feel that he was clammy.

Reaching into the never-ending pocket in her skirts she pulled out her wand. Mindful of cellphone being so close she murmured a powerful healing spell that she had learned from Bill Weasley. The Lyonius necklace came from the Greek tale of Lyonius the Terror. He would give his victims necklaces, or bracelets, small trinkets that were to be worn by the women that he killed. As long as they wore the necklace the poison, from a rarely seen desert plant, wouldn't kill them. Once skin was exposed to the poison they would have to wear it forever, be in contact with it forever or die a very painful death. She could guess that Spencer had been drawn to touch it due to his curious nature and then released it upon realizing he had tampered, if only slightly with the evidence and protocol.

She summoned an empty bottle that contained traces of the antidote. Since discovering this poison it had been her greatest fear and always kept antidotes in a summoning enhanced box in her house. This box meant she would be able to summon it from anywhere to anywhere. Due to the healing spell, she needed but a trace of the antidote to help him. Opening the bottle she stuck her pinky into the container and then traced it gently across his lips. Lifting her finger away she imposed her will upon him so that he would lick his lips, his body and mind complied. His skin, which had turned deathly sallow, had some colour return to it.

Putting her wand back in her pocket she grabbed some hand sanitizer and opened it. Pouring it generously over his hands and whatever else could have touched the pendant she worked it in tirelessly. Once this was done her emotions overwhelmed her, Hermione the Strong, Hermione the Valiant put her head in her hands and cried. The door at the top of the stairs burst open with agents leading the way with guns. Hermione found herself unable to compose her emotions and continued to cry as the FBI agents continued to stare at her in uncomfortable silence.

A weak hand placed itself on her lap and she picked her tear stained face up out of her hands to stare at Spencer. His eyes were still shut, obviously in pain, but he chose to comfort her in the best way that he could as he was too weak to hold her hand, but that didn't mean he couldn't at least let her know that he was okay. Hermione wiped her face with her shirtsleeve and gripped Spencer's hand with understanding.

"Don't touch her necklace." Hermione said at last refusing to remove her eyes from Spencer. Both of their forms were still disarrayed, in the light she could make out the dark stain on the front of his pants- a wonderful evening that could have ended much better.

"Why?" One of the agents asked, she turned and looked at him, he looked at her. He was obviously older than all the agents present and was the only one to not carry a gun.

"It's poisoned. I only had enough of the antidote for one person with me." She watched the other agents tense.

"Spencer will be okay." She leaned a hand down and cupped Spencer's face in a way that made the BAU uncomfortable, as if they were intruding on a moment not meant for the public's eye.

"How do you know?" It was the only other woman present who asked, hands still poised and ready to shoot. Hermione looked up at her with dead eyes, this whole emotionally draining situation really taking its toll on her.

"He told me."

"Who told you?" This must be the 'Hotch' that Spencer had told her about.

"The killer, excuse me- the unsub."

The agents started with surprise and at once had their guns trained on her.

"Get away from Reid." The either black or darkly Hispanic male told her. Hermione hesitated, she couldn't leave him. Right now whether Spencer knew it or not, he was her strength.

"Leave her alone, Morgan." Spencer's voice was very weak, however it caught the attention of everyone in the room. He opened his eyes weakly and then tried to sit. Instantly, like an old nurse maid, Hermione was there holding him and helping him sit. "Jane chased him." He tilted his head up from where it rested on her chest, "You caught him?"

Hermione shook her head and was unable to hide the sadness on her face, she had no energy for anger, "I caught up with him, I could have had him, but I let him go."

"You let him go?" Hotch's voice was dubious.

"Why?" The question came from the man in her arms.

A tear landed on his face, then another.

"He told me what she was wearing, the necklace of Lyonius. The necklace comes from old Greek stories. This particular necklace is laced with poison, so long as the victim wears the necklace he or she lives. If the source of the poison is removed, the person will die a painful and rapid death." She looked down at Spencer, "You touched it."

Spencer closed his eyes, "I just wanted to get a better look at it. I knew I should have worn gloves." He left the statement hanging.

"And you just happen to have the antidote on you?"

Hermione made a sound deep in her throat and another tear fell. "It is my biggest fear. Nothing scares me in my life so much as that necklace. I always carry the antidote on me. My office and home have plenty other antidotes as well."

"Why?" The woman asked suspiciously.

"I do not fear death from physical violence, I can fight that, but a poison?" Hermione shook her head, "Too many good people die from being poisoned. I won't be one of them."

The room grew silent until Hermione spoke again, "Your killer was wearing a DTD sweatshirt, Delta Tau Delta," she amended herself at their looks, "However it wasn't his."

"And you would know this, how?" The man, definitely Hispanic or maybe even Mediterranean looking asked.

"It was too large on him, by two or three sizes."

"So what?" It was the other non-Caucasian man; "People wear too big clothes all the time."

"His brother number. It belongs to a student of mine. 103181. He ends his emails that contain his homework with his brother numbers. This young man was not him."

Things happened rapidly from there, Spencer was taken to the Bangor hospital for observation and the team- and Hermione went with him, though no one trusted the young woman. It was obvious, by their appearance (no one had missed the obvious ejaculation stain on Reid's clothing) that they had been intimate of some kind, thus they did not know how to treat her. How were they to deal with a possibly suspect who one of their team members was in a relationship with?

They waited at the hospital for hours, pacing and wanting Spencer to be okay. He slept on, undisturbed, as test results would not be available for at least eight hours. Ten hours and the okay went by, finally Spencer was up and around, or rather being pushed in a wheel chair by either Morgan or Prentiss. This was when something strange happened, a man with red hair burst into Spencer's room with a facial expression near terror and obvious anger.

"Bill." The strained relief in Hermione's voice was evident so much that emotional pain resonated on Spencer's face. They hugged in a way that made the other agents nervous, was this a husband? Had this woman been playing with Reid's emotions? The others excused themselves out after a look from Hotch and even Spencer left. The agents found themselves (not to Hermione and Bill's knowledge) in the security area watching the footage that came to them from the video camera stationed in the corner of the room.

"Bill." They separated and Hermione felt tears run down her face. "How did you know?"

"Kingsley has been keeping tabs on you."

"To make sure I don't mess up?" Hermione asked bitterly as she sat heavily on the hemp blanket covered bed.

"To make sure you are safe." Bill's tone left the agents to believe that though he cared for Jane he didn't think much of her taking care of herself.

"I am doing fine, and if you all would just clear the area maybe I would be able to catch this guy. He's been under the radar ever since these killings started."

"We think that you should abandon this case and come home." The shock on Hermione's face was evident and she jumped up off the bed and started pacing.

"No! No. No." She kept repeating that single worded answer before turning to the older red headed man, "I have been under cover on this goddamn case for too long. Five years, Bill. Five!"

"And maybe you're too involved here."

"And maybe you're too involved here." She mimicked back to him immaturely.

"See! You have no professional ability. All you are good for is sitting behind a desk and giving the real agents the knowledge that comes out of that over packed brain of yours." Hermione stopped and looked at him, obviously heart broken.

"You don't mean that, Bill."

"Yes, I do. Affiliating yourself with muggles. Don't even think that we don't know what you were doing with that man in that classroom. You're lucky the killer broke that up before we did."

"So, you saw him." She sounded shocked, "You saw him carrying that girl- dead, and you did nothing?"

Bill shrugged, "Not my case, not my problem." He looked at her, "Not our jurisdiction. An arrest made by us would not do anything."

The agents watching this scene unfold looked back at Spencer for his reaction. To be caught doing something sexual had to be on his list of worst possible moments of his life. His face, his eyes were so deep with sadness that each agent had to turn away.

"You know we can't leave them with knowledge of you. They will have to be taken care of." The team tensed, but watched as Jane pulled a gun from her pocket.

Hermione pulled her wand from her pocket and held it poised against Bill. "I will die before you hurt those people." She looked at him with contempt. "They are innocents, Bill! I will not let you- or anyone harm them."

"Really?" Bill looked at her as a parent did a child, with supremacy.

"You forget, Bill Weasley. I out rank you and I am better than you in just about, " She paused, "No, in everything."

"Getting arrogant, I see." He grinned at her and removed his own wand from his pocket and held it poised against her. "You really want this battle? With the whole ministry after you?"

"You really want this battle?" She asked him in return, "I fear not the ministry. The ministry fears me." The way the she looked at him, the agents watching the videos saw him flinch and his body language change.

"You'd be willing to go rogue over this, silly matter?"

Hermione spun her wand through her fingers; this was now a matter of keeping him occupied and talking. She knew that her old friend was just scared, scared of what- she didn't know, but his actions, his insults were not something that he truly believed. "Are you willing to take me on over this, silly matter?"

Bill looked at her in fear.

"Bill, please." Her tone took on a different emotion and she took a step forward. "You and I have been friends for far too long. What has changed, I know deep down you don't believe your words for they are not your own." She gave him a knowing look, "They are the words of another."

Bill looked at her pained and then pointed to his chest and traced a line over his shirt, not touching, all the way up to his ear. Hermione nodded and reached into her pocket and drew out something that looked like a mechanical spider.

The BAU agents watched as Jane pulled out something and attach it to her gun, then fiddled with her weapon for a few more moments it was as though they were all frozen in place watching the scene. Jane pointed her gun at him and fired. The blast was silent and they watched as the man, Bill, stumble back into a table. A cup fell to the floor and everything became silent, then seemingly miraculously the man straightened, obviously unharmed.

"You can speak freely, my friend. I have disabled your listening device."

"She must have shot something like a high frequency distributor to disrupt the sound." Morgan said quietly leaning closer to the screen.

"But our feed hasn't been effected." Rossi said just as quiet.

"It must be short ranged." Morgan paused, "Brilliant."

Bill's facial expression changed to one that was relaxed. "I'm so sorry, H. Really, I am. I didn't want to say what I said but-"

Hermione shook her head, "There's nothing to apologize for, and I should have seen the issue sooner. I would have, if I wasn't," she paused, "distracted."

Bill glanced at her slyly. "I wasn't making that part up you know." He grinned at her, "It was nice to see you finally getting some action." Hermione's face turned crimson and she shoved her wand back in her pocket.

Burying her face in her hands she groaned, "You really saw that?"

Bill's grin widened, "Every part. Though when he started touching you like that, I had to look away. Too much like my sister getting some action." Hermione snorted.

"Bill, had I married your brother like everyone intended me to, I would be your sister."

Bill looked at her more seriously, "I can keep this off your back for a while, but I can't guarantee a good outcome. You're playing a dangerous game."

Hermione raised her head from her hands, "I would appreciate that, Bill. That man is incredible. He makes me feel so alive, and I think-" She paused and breathed deeply, "I think that he would accept me, that he wouldn't mind these scars of mine."

"He hasn't seen them?" Bill asked.

Hermione shook her head, "What we did, " Hermione blushed, "It was too dark for either of us to see clearly, and I of course never wear anything that would expose them. I mean, how could I explain it? 'Oh, these? Yeah, they're just extreme burns. How'd I get them? Oh, you know. The usual- fighting crime.'" She put her head in her hands again.

She looked up, "Bill, last spring I took a group of students will be to Cairo, Egypt remember? They helped me do research on that area you had excavated. Do you remember any of them seeming off? In a killer way, seeming off." Bill seemed to think.

"I don't recall, but then again I don't recall much about them." Hermione shook her head dejectedly.

"I believe the one who is committing these murders was on that trip. I didn't think so until tonight, I knew his voice when he spoke to him. I could have caught him, Bill. I should have." Her shoulders sagged, "But I just couldn't let Spencer die. Not that way, not by that poison. Not alone."

"God, lady." Bill sat down on the bed next to her, "You've got it bad for him. And, don't apologize for not letting him die."

"But I let the killer get away. I could have taken him. Right now he could be in custody."

"And you will get that chance, or they will catch him without your help- either way you still have that lanky nerdy bastard who has caught your fancy." Bill hugged her around one shoulder and then stood.

"I'll need you to reactivate the device now. We'll say that we ended at a draw and I threatened to blah, blah, blah." Hermione looked up at him.

"Who put the wire on you? Who wants me off the case?"

Bill shook his head, "It's not who wants you off the case, it's who wants you in prison."

Hermione stood and rummaged in her pocket for some tools to remove her spider patcher. "Political then." She reached for Bill to remove her jammer and he caught her wrist. Looking deep in her eyes he sighed.

"You could come home, marry my brother. You know he'd still take you."

Hermione shook her head and took back her appendage. "See, that's just the thing about Ron. He'll take me, he'll do me the 'honor', he'll sacrifice himself in order to make me his little house wife." Her words were bitter; "I'm better than that, even if he'll never see. I will never be a bare foot housewife ready to birth and rear his children. I have worked too hard in my life for that, and he hasn't worked nearly hard enough to get me."

Bill looked at her knowingly, "And, of course. There's this guy here, the lank yank?" Hermione blushed, "You're playing with fire, H." He smiled, "But then again, you knew that." Taking a deep breath Bill finally said, "Alright my plain Jane. Unjam me so I can stomp out of here and explain to Kingsley why I haven't brought you home gagged and hog tied."

Hermione stared back at him sadly, "I'll never be able to go back to the ministry will I?"

Bill looked at her for a long time before speaking, "Probably not. You're choosing this government over your own. Most of us will understand, but the people that won't have too much power. Not even Harry can help you now." Hermione looked crestfallen, "I said, 'probably', remember? There's chance that you can come back. Draw this scum bag out of hiding and maybe the ministry will accept you back with open arms." Hermione scoffed, but said nothing else while she worked away.

The spider patcher was her own invention, it jammed the magical signal that both fed and recorded the conversations. With this jam, it was as though time stopped and when it was reactivated it continued to record as if nothing happened. The wire reactivated she stepped back, her voice hard with the emotion of probably saying 'goodbye' to her friend forever.

"Weasley, I give you and your dirty blood thirty seconds to leave my sight before I kill you and leave your head on Albus Dumbledore's grave."

Bill looked back at her just as hard, though she could see the sadness. "_Your_ blood is filthy, from no good parents. A useless chit who is no better than she aught to be who would be better off dead than alive- like the rest of you worthless scum bottom feeders. Mark my words, your class, your people will be stricken from the world of good people."

"People like you?" She sneered, hating herself.

"People like me, with good genealogy. I can trace my family back for centuries. What can you do? Nothing, because you come from nothing and you will leave this world with nothing." With one last pleading look Bill stormed out and Hermione collapsed on the bed in tears.


	5. A Resolution

Hermione left the hospital not long after that, she couldn't bear facing Spencer and his team of suspicious agents right now. She had probably just ruined her entire life, for what? A guy? Hermione all but threw herself onto her plush fabric couch and buried her head in the first pillow she could grab. She knew that she was doing the right thing; it was more than Spencer, more than anything that romantic. Even after the war things didn't change as much as she had hoped. Pure bloods still dominated and the bias towards muggles was still there.

The knowledge that agents from her ministry had just let that killer get away- because he was non-magical, and thus not their problem was something she just couldn't accept. She was a muggle born, and that was not something to be ashamed of. Hermione represented the best of both words and if people would only realize that everyone could live cohesively then most of her problems would vanish.

She pushed herself over and laid facing the ceiling, maybe this type of word, crime fighting just wasn't for her anymore. She truly enjoyed instructing at the collegiate level, teaching about mythos and logos was something that she could continue to do forever.

Spencer would leave, his unit was stationed in Virginia, and she couldn't find it in herself to move there. It was not in her nature to follow a man blindly, and yet if he asked her to. Hermione's thoughts stalled for a moment, 'I would be able to say 'no' now.' She thought fiddling with the buttons on her sweater. 'Down the road, however, if our relationship continues I might not be able to resist. He is truly a special man.' After more contemplation Hermione called it a night and went about doing her nightly routine of letting the cat inside to sleep and putting the dog out for its last bathroom trip. Changing into pajamas, Hermione stared at herself in the mirror, or more importantly her neck. A finger traced one bruised spot, and then another. Spencer had left these marks on her in a show of emotion and physical want. She slept.

Morgan approached room 210 in Little silently, though the door was closed. Placing his ear to the door he closed his eyes and concentrated. Finally, when all other sounds had died away he heard a conversation inside.

"Hermione, I want you to come home." It was a male voice, young but obviously used to being followed.

"No, Harry. I won't." There was a slamming sound; the male had obviously hit something.

"Things are too dangerous here! The ministry is getting out of control." Derek thought that he heard the male sigh, "I thought that once we took down that bastard, once his evil taint was out of the government things would get better." There was a shuffle of movement.

"Harry," Derek could hear the emotion in her voice, "Me coming home won't solve anything. I'm only one person, I can't fight this prejudice. Prejudice can only be defeated when a large enough amount of the general populations rises in confrontation."

"You could lead it."

"No." There was a pause, "I'm thinking about not coming back, Harry. I like what I am here, I enjoy what I do. Maybe this whole world of spying and law enforcement wasn't for me. I could quite happily stay Jane Erman for the rest of my life."

"So, you would leave your people to die."

"Do not torture me with something that is so incredibly biased. Some people are meant to save the world, I've done that. I've been a counter terrorist for most of my life! I think, maybe, that it is time to retire. To settle down," Her voice changed and Derek's heart clenched, "To have a family, Harry. I want a family."

"They will never stop hunting you, you know that."

"You are right in that, but if I want to stay hidden I can and will, you know that I have the skills and resources to stay off the grid forever if I wanted to."

Derek could feel how heavy the silence was in that room. "What brought this about? As long as I've known you, even when we were small, all you wanted to due was prove you're worth and that you are the best." 'Harry' paused, "What changed?"

Jane, or Hermione, or whatever her name was paused and waited, collecting her thoughts most likely before answering. "I think that the roots of these feelings are rather deep seeded. I can never see my parents again because they won't know who I am anymore, not only that but I would blow their protection and leave them vulnerable. Both enemies and allies tail me constantly, when I'm here I feel at peace with the world. Maybe it is because I am finally getting that sense of normalcy that has been missing for most of my life. I like it."

'Harry' paused and seemed to weigh her words. "You would never be able to come back."

She sighed, "I know."

"What if I get you a job like this back home? Something with a desk and pushing papers- no field work, no chasing the bad guys, nothing."

"Harry, what I am telling you is that I am tired of this magical adventure. To me it is nothing but stress."

One of them stood with such ferocity that a chair clattered to the floor, Derek guessed it was the male. "But what about us? You're 'tired', you're this, you're that." He paused, "You're nothing but a selfish hag." Derek winced at the tone of voice, those words radiated anger, hurt and scared anger, but anger none the less.

He could hear the flutter of clothing and a slight struggle before, "Hermione, let go of me! I don't want you to hug me, I am not your friend!"

The struggle continued and he heard crying.

"Harry, listen to me! Stop, stop struggling!" The struggling sound quieted. "I found it- him."

"It, what?" The tone sounded angry still, but there was something else- resignation maybe?

"You know what 'it' is. I know the research and statistical probability of finding your biological match, your- though I loathe the term- soul mate, is low I found him."

"Are you sure?" Derek barely picked up on the whisper, all he knew was that these people were nuts.

"I was the leading researcher on this project. The 'soul mates' phenomenon works in that you find a person who is 92.7 genetically matched to you, if you do find that then there is no point of trying to find another person because no one else will ever match you so perfectly. You've seen the research and read the findings. I'm not crazy. While there is more than one person with this high rating genetic match to each individual the likelihood of encountering more than one of these rare matches in your lifetime is minute, if not statistically impossible."

Derek paused, maybe they weren't crazy- but he didn't like it.

"I found him, Harry. He's so real, I've touched him- that match. This is a chance to be the happiest I could ever be, and he's here. I am willing to give up my entire life, my home, my career, for this chance."

"And you know this after knowing him for what? A few months?"

"A week." The confession was meek, but defiant.

"A week." There was a pause, "That's it, you've lost it. I'm calling off this investigation and you are coming home- handcuffed and gagged if I have to." There was a struggle and finally a slapping sound.

"I am a woman of science, you know this, do not insult my intelligence. I am not someone of frivolous romances and flings. I made this decision with nothing less than a mathematical and statistical probability; I place my future in the hands of these findings. Do not be a fool Harry James Potter."

In his minds eye Derek imagined watching this ' Harry James Potter' slump his shoulders. There was a sigh of defeat.

"I know, Hermione. I know. It's just that," He paused, "I'm scared. We've been friends since we were just kids, you know? Just eleven-"

"Twelve."

"Well, I was eleven. And, now I'm losing you."

"You don't have to lose me, I'll always be right here, if you'd let me be."

'Harry' sighed again. "Should I accept this as your resignation."

"No, I'm going to finish this case and find this bastard- if it's the last thing I ever do. Though," Her tone was thoughtful, "I can't understand how he is hiding from me. He's a sexual sadist who loves nothing on this earth more than slaughtering children. It is unlikely that he'll be able to stay silent for much longer."

"You sure you want to quit? You're the best at what you do."

"Then this is the time for a new 'best' to get the lime light. I've been the best my entire life," A happy sigh, "Now it is time for me to become average." There was a slightly pause, "Average," She repeated the word again, "I like the sound of that."

The two bid their goodbyes as Derek snuck back to another classroom where the rest of the team was waiting. Before he could explain anything Spencer had left the room with a beeline for Jane's office. With a hand poised to knock on the door, it opened revealing Jane and another man, black hair, glasses, green eyes, a tanned complexion even in winter, and a petite build.

"Spencer," Jane's face lit up in a way that made Spencer's tight with anger chest, loosen. The man paused and the two of them sized each other up. Finally, the other man nodding and bid goodbye to Jane. She then let Spencer enter the room; she closed the door behind him.

Spencer hated that he was wearing an earpiece and microphone right now, but his team wanted answers and so did he.

"What's wrong?" Jane asked while sitting down in her chair. Spencer looked around before righting the fallen yellow chair and sitting in it.

"We watched the camera feed from my hospital room."

"And?" Spencer could see nothing in her body language that made her the least bit concern. His confidence faltered.

"And, I know that your name is not Jane." It came out rushed and Spencer cursed himself for lacking the confidence he needed to ask harder questions of her. She laughed. Digging around on her desk she finally unburied and picked up a wooden triangle with gold washed plates on every side. She passed it to him, it read, 'H. Jane Erman.'

"Jane is my name, my first name is Hermione- I often have wondered if my parents were delusional for naming me something out of Shakespeare. I go by my middle name now that I have a choice."

Spencer's heart heaved and he placed his face in his hands, mind racing. Jane was there instantly, kneeling at his feet, face filled with concern.

"Spencer?"

He couldn't hold it, the stress of almost being killed, watching that footage, knowing that she was lying to them- to him! He cried. Her arms wrapped around him in a way that made him feel completely safe- though he really should not have considering he had no idea who she truly was.

Her face appeared in his vision when he picked up his head and his hands reached seemingly of their own accord and grabbed hers, crushing their lips together. It was a release and she seemed to understand that he needed to vent his anger and his frustration out on her. He had no idea that how he crushed her lips to the point where they split, and he had no idea that there was currently blood dripping down their chins. He kissed her again and again, crying until he could finally contain himself.

Spencer pulled back and saw the carnage that was now Jane's face and sharply pulled back even further, knocking his head against the bookcase behind him. "What did I do?" He whispered ashamed of his lack of control. There was blood on her face, on her shirt, Spencer glanced down and saw that his shirt had her blood on it, touching a few fingers to his lips he pulled them back and stared in horror at the red liquid coating them.

"It's alright." Jane said at last, when she spoke Spencer could see the red stain on her teeth.

"It's alright? Alright!" Spencer couldn't believe what he was hearing. Even though right now they were at odds, she was still the first person to ever make him feel this way, not even Lila had done this, and look what he had done to her.

She shushed him and produced tissues from inside a pocket in her skirt. First wiping her face, then dabbing her lip gingerly she cleaned up the mess. Reaching a hand forward Spencer flinched as Jane began to clean him up.

"Who are you?" Spencer found himself asking, though it felt as though he was miles away from the situation.

Jane paused in her movement before continuing to clean him up, "I was part of a defense organization set up by the Ministry of Defense in Britain called 'Unspeakables', to put it lightly we are sort of like your CIA, most of our work doesn't exist, we don't exist. I retired here, to live the rest of my life out in peace. Though, it isn't that peaceful at the moment."

"How can you say that so lightly?" Spencer asked her incredulously.

Hermione shrugged, "I trust you."

"After only knowing me for such a short time?"

Hermione locked eyes with him, "You and I both know that there is not a treacherous bone in your body. Furthermore you realize that I didn't tell you because of secrecy and protocol, in your line of work you should understand that."

Spencer knocked her hand away lightly, "And what? After we left this romance would either be finished or you would continue it until when? Until you had to go back to your real life?"

Hermione sat looked down at her hands for a moment. "None of your friends can hear us right now." Unconsciously Spencer put a hand on his earpiece. "I took care of that. All they will hear is what we were just doing: kissing."

Spencer stared at her, "How could you have possibly set that up in that short amount of time, without me seeing you?" He watched as Hermione produced a gun from her skirt and started violently. She grabbed his wrist.

"Stop! Let me explain." The gun in her hand vanished before his very eyes and a stick replaced it- he was no fool, it was obvious that it was a wand. He stared at her calculatingly and she looked back with a fearful expression.

"Nothing in science can explain what you just did." Hermione shook her head.

"No, it can't."

"So, the only plausible explanation is that what just happened was magic."

There was a pause and Hermione looked down at her lap, at the wand. "Yes."

Spencer sat and contemplated everything that he knew in life, things made so much more sense. Throughout his life he knew that he saw things that didn't seem right, people who stuck out for odd reasons, though he never understood why. "I believe you." He said finally.

She looked up at him, "And?"

Spencer looked down at her in confusion, "And?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, "And, do you hate me? Are you going to run off shouting, 'Witch! Witch!'?"

Looking at her like she was crazy Spencer asked, "Why would I do that?"

Hermione tackled him and held him, Spencer unable to think of anything else to do, held her back, though awkwardly.

"You just saved me a lot of paper work."

"Hm?" Spencer asked slightly distracted, her shirt had shifted slightly and while Spencer couldn't see much, there was a hint of a red lacy bra.

"I would have hated wiping your mind of this entire conversation. If it were up to me, you know, we people of magic would not hide from muggles."

"Muggles?" Spencer asked, puzzled.

"Non- magic folk." Spencer nodded and made an 'ah' sound.

They were silent for a moment before Hermione lifted her wand to her lip, "I suppose since you know about magic I don't have to walk around with a cut on my face until it would be reasonable for it to heal." Murmuring a spell to fix the cut it disappeared, shockingly. Another spell cleaned their clothing of blood.

"I'm sorry about that." Spencer couldn't help the ashamed tone that appeared in his voice.

Hermione shook her head, "Don't be. My lips often crack and bleed during the winter- they get horribly chapped. Your kissing just exasperated the effect."

Spencer stared at her lips, "May I?" He asked suddenly feeling nervous.

Hermione nodded, looking just as shy. Tentatively their lips met, none of the crushing anger that had been present before was there now. The door burst open to three agents with guns pointing directly at Hermione sitting in Spencer's lap, lip locked.

Spencer stood startled, dropping Hermione from his lap. Realizing it was the team he reached down and helped her back up, her wand had mysteriously vanished. Light flashed and the agents blinked with confusion. Spencer looked at Hermione who was slipping her wand away again with great speed.

"What was that?"

Hermione looked apologetic. "I couldn't let them remember the footage on the tape. All they remember is that an argument took place on the tape, and that Bill called me by 'Hermione' instead of Jane. They were concerned over my identity."

Spencer felt anger for a second, before resigning himself- in her position he might have done the same. Picking up her nameplate from the desk he tossed it to Hotch who caught it with mild surprise.

"This was a false alarm, I believe. That nameplate reads, 'H. Jane Erman'. H, standing for 'Hermione' a prolific figure from one of Shakespeare's pieces."

"And the fight?"

Hermione shrugged, "Bill doesn't like it when I am not careful. He thought that running after a known killer was reckless." She pouted almost like a spoiled child, "I can defend myself, you know. The agents put away their guns.

"Against a killer?" Derek asked skeptically.

"I take women's self defense courses here. RAD, Rape Aggression Defense, it's free for all female students, faculty, and staff." The agents nodded. Spencer felt uncomfortable about this entire situation, two minutes earlier they had busted in here cause of something that, to them, no longer existed. He knew that it was for the best, and that it was protecting Hermione, Jane, whatever she wanted to call herself, but somewhere he wondered if she had taken away some of his memories. They would have to talk about this. Stepping forward still deep in thought, Spencer put a hand on the small of her back.

The movement was so innocent, but also so personal that the other members of his teamed eyed him in surprised fascination. For someone who detested physical contact, instigating it was a huge difference. Maybe this H. Jane Erman character wasn't so bad afterall.


	6. A Reunion

Sorry about the long wait, school work became a bit overwhelming. I am not out of the woods yet, but I at least found some breathing room!

Enjoy!

* * *

"Maybe we should reach out to the Greeks?" Rossi's proposition gained some raised eyebrows from the rest of the unit. They were sitting, each looking through a file inside of the multipurpose room.

"Why?" Morgan asked as he dropped a page down, having finished reading his file. He closed the manila envelope and set it aside, he leaned forward expectantly.

"Jane said something about the assailant wearing a Greek letter shirt-"

"Yes, DTD, or Delta Tau Delta. They are a major fraternity here on campus, they have a chapter house, a place where a large amount of the brotherhood resides, on College Avenue." Reid prattled vaguely whilst looking through his file.

"I remember, when I was in college, wearing the Greek letters of a fraternity you weren't in caused a lot of issues, fights even." Morgan quipped leaning forward in his chair.

"Maybe you're right. Let's see what else Jane can tell us about this guy. Reid," Reid looked up from his notes, "Call up your girl and see if she can help us." Reid nodded and left to room to make a phone call in privacy, he returned a few moments later.

"She has a lecture at 9:30, that ends at 10:45, she'll come here once it is over." It was the next day, Tuesday and that meant that all classes were an hour and fifteen minutes long. They continued to bounce ideas off of each other until she arrived looking flustered and frost bitten with cold.

"Cold much?" Prentiss asked without much warmth in her voice, she still didn't like the woman for some reason.

Hermione took off her heavy cloak, which was a weird option of clothes, and scarf before shaking out her hair, "Negative twenty-two is cold for anyone, whether they are used to it or not, Agent Prentiss." She was wearing one of her usual knee length teaching skirts and rich coloured blouses that made her skin look extra rosy considering the weather outside.

"Jane, May I introduce you to someone?" Reid stood and brought her over to Gideon, "Gideon, this is Hermione Jane Erman, Jane this is,"

"Jason Gideon." Jane spoke, Gideon leaned forward and gave her a kiss on each cheek.

"You answered my request?" Gideon smiled at her as he would someone of great affection.

"Of course."

"You, you two know each other." The meek sounding confusion that had infiltrated Reid's voice caused Jane and Gideon to turn and look at him.

"Don't be too surprised, Reid. I knew her before, well." Gideon paused, "Before everything really. I met her when she was still a child." Gideon looked at Jane with true affection, "Before she started to hate the name Hermione."

Jane ducked her head in embarrassment, "So, it might not be the worst name in the world." Gideon laughed lightly and clapped her on the shoulder.

"So, the case?" Jane looked around hopefully, "Any clues?"

"That is what we wanted to use you for," Hotch gestured to a seat and Jane sat. "The location of where he dumped the last body was not on the list you had previously given us, why?"

Jane paused deep in thought before speaking, "That classroom must have some kind of significance, it might have been directed at a certain target."

"Do you know who teaches in there often?" Hotch asked while staring at their whiteboard of information.

Jane thought carefully, "Well, Professor Steep, Professor L'Enfant, and I all use that classroom equally as much, but there are plenty of others use also use that classroom."

"What are the subjects? We'll cross reference them with the schedules of the victims." Morgan asked while taking out a pen and piece of paper to write the down information.

"Professor Steep is part of the political science department, though like me he also teaches in the Honors College. He teaches, I believe the 100 level introduction course to American Government, along with a few 400 level classes." She paused to think.

"I don't know much about L'Enfant, however. He's been here for long time, however he teaches mostly at the Hutchinson Center, which is off campus. He's a bit unconventional."

"What subject?" Jane blushed at Morgan's question, she had forgotten an important piece of information.

"Psychology, I think introduction to, abnormal, and then something called sports psychology."

"And you teach?" Rossi asked expectantly.

Jane looked startled, as if she had not thought it possible to truly be involved in this matter. "I teach introduction to Latin and Greek as well as a few peace studies and classical literature courses." She looked down, "My department is small, so I teach a few courses here and there in the other departments."

"We're going to set up a meeting with the heads of the Greek community, do you have a way of getting in touch with all of them?" Rossi asked not unkindly seeing her embarrassment.

"The Panhellenic Council and the IFC."

"Which are?" Rossi prompted her quick answer, Jane blushed again at her lack of information.

"The Panhellenic Council is the head of all the Sororities on campus, the IFC, or Inter Fraternity Council does much the same thing."

The group got to business finding out the details of when the group was going to meet and whose permission they had to seek before they were able to speak to the group of students. When the day finally ended Jane found herself being followed out of the building by none other than a certain Dr. Spencer Reid.

They walked silently for a bit until he finally was able to corner her in the small alcove that served as a place for bikes near Neville Hall.

"You know Gideon." Jane could tell that he was trying to keep his voice light, but he was failing miserably.

"Only vaguely, he worked with the muggle, non-magical government to aid us in the last wizarding war." Spencer was silent, contemplative and Jane hoped that he was not about to have a relationship fatal outburst.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked at last, almost sounding like a heart broken secondary schooler.

Jane tugged him in closer to her and laid her head on his chest, hoping that she wasn't being too presumptuous. "I didn't realize that you two knew each other, I am no mind reader here Spencer, he was just one of my only muggle contacts in your government. It is not as though I meant to keep this information from you, I promise."

She felt rather than saw his relaxation and he placed his head gently into the plump woman's hair. "I think I am okay. I just, I don't know. I am not a fan of surprises."

Jane smiled into his chest and took a deep breath, his smell was absolutely intoxicating, "He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

Spencer nodded into her fluffy hair. "He was like the father that I never had, mine walked out on my mother and myself due to her illness."

Jane chose not to reply, instead she just held him and relished in the fact that he was holding her.

"I was scared." She finally said, "The other night, when you got poisoned. I don't believe I have ever been so scared to lose someone."

"Jane, you and I barely know each other." Spencer admonished, though she could tell he was pleased at her confession.

"Do we really, barely know each other?" She asked him, "I believe you and I almost got intimate that evening before we were interrupted. Do you make it a habit of doing that with girls you barely know?" The questions sounded light hearted, however there had been a seed of doubt in her mind that plagued her. What if he did this with a lot of girls? He didn't seem like the type, but one could never be too sure.

Spencer reacted violently, pulling her even more tightly against his chest. "No, you are special. You make me feel like I have never felt before. I am fully enthralled by you." Jane smiled and hugged him back tightly.

"Come over to my house this evening, we'll have supper." Spencer looked nervous and she touched his hand where she could reach it from her current ragdoll-in-his-arms position. "Just supper, I promise. I won't jump your bones." Spencer still looked unsure, but nodded all the same. They released one another and continued walking, "My car is parked this way, I couldn't find a closer spot so I am in the sports bubble lot."

"Sports bubble lot?" Spencer questioned.

"Mm, yes. It is a large white dome that had a sports field inside of it for teams to practice on in less than favourable weather." Spencer nodded and followed her diligently to her vehicle. They paused by a four door Subaru outback in a soft green colour Jane turned a looked at him, "Well, this is me. Oh," She pulled out a pen from her pocket and grabbed his hand.

Years of writing call numbers for library books on her skin came in handy and her penmanship was flawless on his skin, "Here. This is my address. You can read it, right?" She checked and he nodded, "Does seven work for you?" The sun was already down due to the time in the year, though Spencer guessed it to be around five. He nodded.

"I'll see you then." Jane smiled and stretched up on her tiptoes and pecked him lightly with a kiss before stepping into her vehicle, situating herself and driving away.

She had arrived home and was shutting down her car when she noticed something that had been stuck to her windshield wiper the entire way. Sighing at the audacity of those students who liked to put fliers under people's windshield wipers she grabbed it hastily, kicked her door shut and meandered up to her door.

Opening the door and resetting the alarm system Hermione closed it and placed her items on the hall table. Humming lightly to herself, a Weird Sister's tune if she was recalling correctly, Hermione shuffled into the kitchen and only then did she check out what ridiculous flier it was this time.

It was a picture of Regi, gagged with a pleading expression. She gasped and dropped the picture before breaking down in tears.

When Spencer knocked on her door two hours later he found Jane red and blotchy faced, and silently handed him the photo with one word, "Regi."

* * *

iBless!


	7. An Explanation

Sorry about the long wait! I really have no excuse other than I was lazy. I did go back to chapter five and tweek a few things, less grammar editing and more plot line editing. Spencer does not know that Hermione's name is Hermione Jane Granger, he believes that it is Hermione Jane Erman. He thinks that she is retired from crime fighting, and not undercover on a case. Really, that's it. Also, in 2004 J.K. Rowling said that Hermione's middle name was Jane, she changed it with the last book (I think it was the last book), to Jean so that she would not have the same middle name as Umbridge. According to Lexicon, Hermione was born in 1979, not 1980 when Harry and Ron were born.

* * *

The team was there, in her house and Hermione had no idea how to handle it. She sat, feeling shaken, on her couch in between Spencer and Gideon. Each clasped a hand and she took solace in their strength. She was going through an inner transformation that she did not enjoy. One side of her was a quivering, blubbering mass of feelings and bad thoughts. The other side was that cool collected side that she wished would crawl under a rock and die.

Derek and Rossi stood on the other side of the room idly looking around, "What do you see?" Rossi asked Derek in a seemingly nonchalant way.

Derek glanced around, "Nothing personal, well nothing really. There are the photos that you are expecting to see, from her life here. But I don't see any of previous friends, when she was younger, or even photo of her parents. It looks way too-"

"Posed." Rossi finished and they both continued to glance suspiciously around. Something twitched in the back of their minds, but not enough for either of them to notice.

Hotch approached them and stood with his hands pressed deep into his pockets. To others who did not know him as well, he would seem at ease, however his eyes swiveled and moved with barely contained anxiety. It was common knowledge that if anything were to happen to this girl it would crush their friend.

Rossi turned to him, "At least we know who the unsub is after."

Hotch nodded, "But why? It is personal, obviously, we just need to know more about her."

Derek shouldered past Rossi and Hotch and sat down in one of the armchairs opposing the couch were Jane was resting. Leaning forward, he braced his arms on his knees and threaded his fingers together.

"You need to be straight with us, this guy is after you. Why?"

Jane tucked her head into Gideon's shoulder, and Reid fought the feeling of jealousy, and possibly a small bit of hurt at this action.

"No, tell me. Now. You've got us all here, and we're willing to help you, but you have to be straight with us."

"I don't know, really, I don't."

Derek shook his head, "That isn't good enough. There must be something." The doorbell rang and the surprise made Derek pause. Hotch nodded at Prentiss who removed her gun from the holster and approached the front door, keeping the weapon low. With another nod from her superior she opened the door to find a lean, if a bit on the small side, young man with naturally tan skin, green eyes, and a dark mop of hair. He pushed up his spectacles with a sheepish grin.

"I'm sorry, but I'm here to see-"

"Harry!" Jane was up and out of her seat faster than anyone could believe possible. She didn't make it all the way into the front hall, and instead leaned on the side of the large open doorway.

Harry pushed past Prentiss all looks of a nice and common English gentleman gone. He gathered her up into his arms and held her. She held on to him just as fast and Spencer's heart clenched, this was one of those people, the magic ones, and that was a place where he couldn't follow her.

Gideon cleared his throat and stood with a pleasant expression on his face, despite the circumstances, "Harry."

'Harry' looked up from holding Jane and his pained expression eased, "Jason."

"Another one?" Derek's face was contorted in confusion and anger, "Just what is going on here."

"Derek," Hotch said warningly, but Derek ignored him.

"No, we are here working our butts off, people are dying, and little miss perfect gets to act like the victim. She mysteriously has a list of places where the bodies could be dumped, she lets the unsub go, she knows Gideon. A lot of this, I'm just not buying as a coincidence."

Jane stood nearly frozen and then turned when she heard Spencer standing to have it out with Derek.

"No, please." She sighed, "Everyone sit, Harry would you please put on some tea for me. Coffee, tea, cocoa, anyone?" Jane looked around the room hopefully, trying with desperation to break the ice. When no one answered her head bobbed slightly in a minor defeat and Harry exited the room for the kitchen.

The others moved to sit, though it would seem that not all of them were comfortable sitting, judging by how Prentiss and Derek sat on their edge of his or her seat, just waiting to jump. "How can I even begin this explanation?" Jane held up her hand to stop the others from speaking.

"First, my name is not really Jane, or Hermione Jane Erman." She paused, "Well, legally speaking here in the United States I am H. J. Erman. In the U.K. I went by another name, Hermione Jane Granger."

"What, and some big bad hit man has come to the school to get you?" Derek scoffed.

"Hardly." The ire in Jane's voice was apparent, "I left that name behind because that name is indeed dangerous. Harry and I were part of a resistance group, highly classified, in the service of her Royal Majesty. We were recruited young so that we could root out terrorist cells and their recruits at the high school and collegiate level. Gideon was an advisor to us. Together we took down many dangerous operatives and worked to rid the United Kingdom of their most dangerous criminals.

"I left, after an accident left me," Unconsciously she pulled down on the long sleeve of her sweater, and her voice took on a sound of embarrassment and shame, "scarred. Disfigured, really." She sounded bitter, "And thus I gained my doctorates, changed my name and moved here to the states.

"I could figure where and when the bodies would be placed, because I'm trained, not unlike you all, and I seriously don't know why I am being targeted. I mean, I am active both within the community and on campus, and I am not unpopular. I suppose I could be the one being targeted for being accepted easily, in a way that he deems unfairly, because he as a native is not as accepted."

There was silence, uncomfortable and heavy that was only broken when Harry brought in the tea service. Keeping her head down, Hermione gently served herself jasmine and lemon tea with shaking hands.

"So, let me get this straight," Derek paused, "This is all a coincidence."

Gideon smiled slightly, "Haven't you noticed that history often chooses the same people over and over again to serve as turning points of society and history? Probably because they have proven themselves unyielding and each person in these situations has shown that they can handle the pressure, and thus fate chooses them again."

"There's no such thing as fate." Spencer said, still not liking what he was processing. Yes, he knew that Jane, Hermione, whatever, had not told him the whole truth. However he would not have guessed all that she had told them.

Hotch turned slightly to the now returned Harry, "And are you still an operative, Mister?"

"Potter, though it is Peterson here in the United States, if you don't mind, and yes, I am."

"And you are here because?"

"Because I have been trying to convince Hermione to come home for some time now. Everyone misses her desperately." Those in the room could tell that he was speaking more to Hermione than anyone else. Harry paused, "Catch me up, Jason will vouch for me, and I can help."

The behavioral analysis unit glanced at each other in uncertainty before Hotch relented; "We have copies of most of the photos and notes in the car."

* * *

Hermione was curled up on her side, clutching a pillow when Spencer found her an hour or so later. He sat on the side of her bed nervous and unsure. "Why didn't you tell me all of that?"

"You already know the answer to that."

Spencer smiled slightly despite the circumstances, "Protocol and security clearance?"

Hermione nodded, "Though I wasn't completely honest." In for a knut, in for a sickle.

"Hm?" Spencer made a questioning noise and reached out a hand to stroke down her frame, needing to feel her.

"I am not completely retired."

Spencer's hand never stopped its motion and Hermione found it very soothing. "Oh?" He questioned.

"I have been working on a case for the past five years. I'm not sure if it will ever go anywhere, but I intend on it being my last. I enjoy what I do too much to go back to spying and fighting."

"What is the case?"

"There has been a string of child murders in this area, we know who the perpetrator is, he is a member of an old organization that Harry and I helped to take down. We know who, we know that he's in the area, but for the life of us we can't get in." Her fist clenched angrily, "I can't get him."

"We haven't been notified of any other murders in the area, we would have been briefed on them just in case they would match up with this guy."

"You wouldn't find them. They have been kept quiet, this is a behind the scenes operation. It doesn't exists and once we find him, it never happened."

Spencer's hand faltered for a moment, "And you intend on killing him?"

Hermione was silent in contemplation, she had often discussed this with herself, "I honestly cannot tell you. There is not a person in the world who would not cheer if he died. I just don't know if I have it in my anymore, killing I mean."

"So, you have killed?" Spencer's question was vulnerable and Hermione finally turned to face him.

"Yes, I have." She leveled a square gaze at him, "I didn't enjoy it, and I only did it when I had absolutely no choice in the matter. Killing isn't my style."

"I'm glad killing isn't your style," Spencer replied her words back to her, and Hermione smiled.

"Are we okay?"

"Are we a we?" Spencer retorted.

"I don't know that either," Hermione replied again. "I'd like us to be, given the chance."

Spencer leaned in, though not all the way as he didn't have the self-confidence. Hermione was stretching her neck up to him when a commotion downstairs and running up her stairs drew their attention.

Harry burst through the door to find Hermione and Spencer a respectful distance away, though not too much distance so that they weren't slightly touching.

"Look at this, Hermione. We know this weapon, just look at it." He lumbered towards her and all but shoved the photo into her hand. It was a photo take from the coroner's office showing a cleaned wound with a sizing square next to it for reference to size.

"I don't see it, Harry."

The others were at the door now, curious as to why Harry had bounded up the stairs after staring at a picture for what seemed like ages.

Harry knelt next to the bed and traced the circular hole with his finger, "The premortum bruising pattern, the shape, and here are the notes about depth and how much pressure it would take to do this type of damage, think, and think hard."

Hermione stared at the photo and tried to get her mind to go through old memories until something clicked, "Dolores Umbridge."

"Dolores, who?" Prentiss asked from the doorway.

Hermione ignored her and sat up still staring at the photo in amazement. "I can't believe I didn't see it sooner!" She continued to stare until Spencer tapped her on the shoulder.

"I believe it would be useful if you were to tell us what you are thinking."

Hermione blushed slightly, "Dolores Umbridge was a government official gone bad, as bad as you can go."

"And worse." Harry interrupted.

Hermione nodded, "She eventually joined a terrorist group that was hell bent on a genocide. She wanted all those of impure blood and what she deemed as lower standards of breeding to be eradicated. Eventually she developed a signature style of killing."

"Which is?" Rossi prompted.

"She would repeatedly stab her victims with an icicle. Then the weapon would melt away, and thus no murder weapon that could be traced back to her." Her mind flashed to pulling Spencer back when he would have walked through the door of the library, the 'danger falling ice' sign. "I know what happened," She blushed again, "Well, somewhat." She stood and made her way out the crowded doorframe and back down the stairs of her little home. In the kitchen she grabbed her dry marker erase board that she used to track chores and groceries, taking up a few markers she slammed it down none too gently onto her kitchen island and erased what was written on it.

She was already writing when the others came up to watch her work. "First victim, Katie Dupree, she was an accident. A fight maybe, but either way she was most likely pushed back and under the danger area of one of the buildings. There, she died when large icicles punctured her lung, she bled to death."

"Is it really that dangerous? The overhangs here?" Rossi asked with a mixed expression of doubt and a little mystification.

"Oh, yes." Hermione nodded fiercely, "Someone died just last year when an avalanche of snow fell off the roof of Colvin Hall. Her neck was merely broken though, by the weight of the snow."

"The next death came in quick succession, most likely to give the police another body, and to take away the significance of Katie. Once again stabbing with a large icicle killed her. Maira was next, same signature." Hermione paused at the painful memory, "Regi, the first boy, and most likely the first real target at me. He died," she paused, "by being cooked alive in the Hilltop kicthens."

"His M.O. changed." Hotch noted.

"But then he went back to it for his most latest kill, a Laura McPherson." Derek pointed out.

"Then something must have happened." Rossi finally said, "He must have messed up, or was almost caught when he changed his style, he left his comfort zone, had an issue and then reverted back for lesser issues."

Spencer nodded, "We need to go back over all the evidence from Regi's crime."

"Recanvas, even." Gideon paused, "It is likely that someone saw them, or saw something that the unsub deemed useable against him."

Hotch nodded and straightened with a feeling that they had regained somewhat control of this case. "I think that we are ready to give a profile, and we'll do it in the morning. Team," The beckoning tone in his voice commanded the others to leave with him and go back to the hotel.

Hermione closed the door behind them after what had been a very long day. Seeing Harry out the floo she sighed and set to cleaning up some of the mess from this evening. She had just sat down again on her couch when there was knocking at her door. Cautiously, she stood and made her way to the door. Her hand was in her pocket and was gripping her wand when she retched open the door to find Spencer there holding a box of pizza.

"We never had supper."

Hermione's eyes watered slightly, but she held it in. "It's past midnight, Spencer." Hermione could visibly see Spencer's confidence waning.

"Oh, well. I'll just go then." Spencer turned around to walk away, but Hermione reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

"I would love to have supper, or breakfast, or any meal with you." Spencer turned back with a large smile on his face and Hermione stepped back to allow him passage into her home.

"Is that Pat's Pizza?" She asked before closing the door behind him.

* * *

iBless!


	8. A Profile

This is the next installment. I've never been shy about saying that the updates are long and inbetween, however I never, ever abandon a story. I am doing internships and graduate school stuff and I'm just so swamped. However, let it be known, I will continue to update and finish this story.

* * *

"He is young, though he is quickly becoming addicted to killing."

"He lives on campus, or nearby."

"He is most likely between the ages of twenty and twenty five."

"You guys just named about six thousand men." A police officer scoffed at them. The team stood in front of the University of Maine Police Department; they were in the midst of giving their profile analysis.

Morgan frowned, "He's white, young, and used to be in power. He's also well liked, more so than usual. He's most likely in the Greek society here. Canvas around, someone saw something on the night of the boy's killing, it's why is M.O. changed."

Chief Debbie broke up the meeting and sent all the officers on their way. She came over to the FBI agents, a lumbering form of power in her own right. "You really think that we'll be able to catch this guy?"

Hotch nodded, "He's young and inexperienced. He's going to make a mistake."

"Maybe he already has." Rossi said.

Debbie shrugged, "All I know is that he's targeting Jane. The poor girl doesn't need anything else happening to her."

"Why do you say that?" Prentiss asked.

"Well," Debbie wrapped her hands around her belt, "She came here with nothing, and I know of no familial relations. There's more," Her voice was concerned, "She always looks haunted- driven maybe. Like there's something that she's supposed to be doing but can't." Debbie shrugged, "I like anyone who treats students as well as she does, we'll do our best to protect her." With that the Chief was off and walking calling to one officer or another to meet with her to speak about things.

"Yeah, something is haunting her alright," Morgan scoffed.

"Morgan, don't." Reid stated sounding more rigid and stern than any of them have ever heard. "You have no idea what you're talking about when it comes to her."

"And you do? You barely know this chick." Morgan pushed himself away from the desk he was leaning on, "I'm out. Call me when lover boy remembers who his teammates are."

"Morgan," JJ began and stopped when Spencer shook his head.

"He's angry. He has every right to be. But I trust Jane- Hermione." He made a sound of frustration, "I trust her and that should be enough for him."

Morgan rubbed his hands together and blew into them. His walk had angrily taken him down across the campus and to the mall that was located in front of the library.

"You look cross." He looked over and mentally groaned; there she was the bane of his existence sitting without a care in the world on a snow covered picnic table.

"Listen lady, I don't need to deal with you right now."

"I think that you do. You are hurting Spencer."

"I'm hurting Spencer?" Morgan's voice was harsh, sarcastic and he turned with anger to face her. "You barely know him. You don't know us, and you lied. Now tell me why I should trust you."

She shrugged and stood off the table and walked towards him wrapping her cloak more firmly around herself. She stood in front of him with cheeks red from the cold and eyes sharp with attention. "You should trust me because I saved him, and because I would save any of you. When you meet that person you just know, and I know that it is Spencer."

Morgan rolled his eyes.

"No, really. I don't speak lightly about topics like this. I will never harm Spencer, or anyone attached to him. I don't speak of my past because I am not allowed to. There are many people who want me dead, I hide my identity to protect not only myself, but those attached to me."

"You're risking him."

Hermione shook her head, "Spencer is a big boy, he can take care of himself. He's a lot more self sufficient than you all care to believe."

"And you know this how."

She shrugged, "I can see it in his heart. How he carries himself. If there was ever a moment when he was truly in danger I would do anything to protect him."

Morgan paused, "I guess, I just don't understand why."

Hermione looked long and hard at him, long enough to make him feel uncomfortable as if she was looking into his soul. "Because he saw me, Agent Morgan. He noticed me when no one else did. I have been invisible all of my life, but to him it's like there's no one else in the world. I have never felt so loved, especially not in such a short amount of time. And because I notice him, because when he walks in the room it lights up, my chest tightens and I know that I want to be with him. It's instinctual, it's attraction, and most importantly it's real. I have fallen hard and fast- and I will follow him all of my days."

Morgan didn't know what to say to such a declaration. They might have only met recently, but he guessed if there was ever a case for love at first sight it would be this one. He stuck his hand out, "Truce?"

She smiled, and he was at once struck with how pretty this woman could be if given the chance, "Truce." They shook.

Rossi gazed over the group of assembled students in Hauck Auditorium, he had just finished giving them the same profile that his team had given the police, however this reaction was a lot different. Instead of scoffing, or even looking concerned he was met with a stony look that told him that the students were all going to stick together.

It made sense, he supposed, because if one person from the Greek community was responsible for this it would reflect badly upon everyone who is in a Greek letter society, social or otherwise. They would divide each group up now and break into them one by one, this was just a preliminary round to get the students thinking. Obviously not all the Greeks were there- it was a miracle they had been able to get as many of the students as they had at one time.

He dismissed the students and hitched his pants up to squat at the edge of the stage as a few students. "You guys really think that he's one of us?" It was a large- very large black youth of about twenty, twenty-one years old.

"We do, and you are?"

He grinned and stood up straight, "I'm Tank from Theta Xi."

Rossi grinned back at him despite the gravity of the situation, it was hard to not like him. "Well, Tank from Theta Xi, do you have any information that could help us?"

Tank's smile drooped, "I don't know, but Theta Xi has your guys' back. Being Greek is one thing, being a killer is another thing and no matter how good of a man you are- if you are a killer not even brotherhood can help you."

Rossi studied him, "That's a pretty strong statement, one that could get you in trouble."

Tank shrugged, "I had a brother- an actual brother, not that my brothers don't mean as much to me, and he was killed by accident- just at the wrong place at the wrong time. The people that have died here, they have siblings and parents too- and I don't know if my mother has ever stopped crying. It's not right."

The other Theta Xi brothers around him nodded.

Rossi thanked them for their time and watched as they walked off.

"He's a good guy- Tank is." It was Evan, the president of Sig-Ep and the Inter Fraternal Council, and he was the one responsible for helping them gather everyone.

"He seems like he has a good heart, in the right place too."

Evan nodded, "His story has really meant a lot to us brothers- I think that's why a lot of us are so angry." He paused, "I know that it looks like the other chapters aren't going to help you, but Tank and I will convince them to." A serial killer in New York had murdered Evan's sister not even two years ago.

Rossi patted him on the shoulder whilst looking out at the exiting group of students. The killer had been in this room, and knew that they knew about his description and how he operated. They had excluded the part of the profile that talked about nearly being caught with Regi.

It would start picking up now, he realized. They would catch him soon, probably within the next week to two weeks. And then they would be going home, the question was now- would Ried go with them or stay here with Hermione.

Two more killings happened that week, an Omega Xi sister and a Delta Rho Epsilon sister. The campus was in uproar- whilst Omega Xi wasn't known to be the nicest group of girls, Delta Rho was. Fraternities began having nightly patrols on campus and many parents started taking their children home.

Spencer and Hermione sat on her couch and went over the evidence again and again, this evening was no exception. The Delta Rho girl had struck her particularly hard, she was a favourite student of hers and it didn't help that Hermione was the academic advisor of the sorority.

She was leaning over the evidence, hair disarrayed and face drawn taunt. Spencer's hand ran absently up and down her back in a feeble attempt of comfort. After the second killing she had cancelled all of her classes until further notice and sent notices to the parents of the students who were often seen around her advising the students to go home. She confined herself to her house, and only let a few people see her.

"Rest." He said to her at last when her head dipped forward for the first time.

She looked as though she was going to protest before he made the decision for her and stood up, pulling her up with him.

"Go upstairs, get changed, and I'll bring you something warm to drink."

Hermione left to follow his instructions, that more than anything else worried him. Usually she was a spitfire that would not listen to anyone's advice about anything. Spencer resolved to stay the night, something that he had not done before. She obviously needed someone to make sure that she was not come downstairs and start working on the material.

After putting the pillows to right on the bed and bringing Hermione her tea Spencer toed off his shoes and sat of the couch. Running his fingers through his hair, he paused when he heard a creak on the stairs. He looked up and his breath at once escaped him, Hermione looked beautiful despite her disarray in her long nightgown.

"Spencer, what are you doing?" She asked with sleep-deprived confusion.

Spencer blushed and looked down feeling at once awkward and vulnerable. "I'm staying the night, to ensure that you sleep instead of work." He was graced with a true and genuine smile.

She held out her hand, "Come then, don't sleep down here on the couch." His world stopped for a second, his heart raced, and his mouth dried. Without much conscious thought, he stood and walked to the stairs as if in a dream and allowed himself to be lead upstairs.

Hermione offered him a t-shirt and shorts, which he gladly accepted, and he changed into them. Entering her room he found her lying in bed with the covers drawn back so that he could slip in. Standing awkwardly there Spencer hesitated, this was a choice about their relationship, the look on Hermione's face said that it was a decision that he had to make, and that she would accept his decision either way.

Swallowing a lump in his throat and squaring his shoulders Spencer made the hardest move in his life and took a step towards the bed, and then another until finally his knees hit the edge. Leaning down, he sat and then crawled into bed. Hermione pressed her face to his neck and Spencer felt himself relax as he felt the physical form of her smile pressed into his flesh. She tucked them in and wrapped her arms around him. Spencer found himself turned and spooned from behind by his more dominant significant other. Feeling more content than either of them had in a long time, they slept.


	9. A Frustration

Hello all! I'm alive. I'm dealing with graduate school stuff and finding jobs and a 'youth life' crisis as I've begun to call it. Gah I just feel like I've wasted such a large amount of time. What do you guys think I should do with my life? Seriously, tell me. I'm open all ears to all suggestions at this point. Blah. Well, enjoy.

* * *

Spencer blinked and moved to stretch before freezing- he was not alone. Something lay across his chest and he glanced down to see a mop of mousy brown hair. Hermione was splayed across his torso, not uncomfortably, and he smiled at their position despite himself. A quiet sound caused him to look up into the eyes of his coworkers who stood in the door. Each one held a different face: Hotch was impassive, Rossi looked like Christmas had come early, Prentiss and Morgan had similar expressions of concern and wariness, JJ looked embarrassed to see such an intimate moment, and Gideon watched them with a small smile that showed approval.

Spencer nodded slightly as a sign that he acknowledged them and that both he and Hermione would be down soon. The door slowly slid closed and he felt himself relax. The typical almost mind numbing embarrassment was there, however there was also a feeling that he wasn't accustomed to feeling outside of the classroom: pride. While it was true that they had not slept together in a biblical sense, he had taken this a step further than any relationship that he had had in recent memory.

Without hesitation he pressed his lips gently to the crown of her head. She shifted and he smiled. "It is time to get up," he paused for a moment feeling unsure before adding, "my sweet." Hermione shifted and glanced up at him groggily. She placed a kiss on his neck and trailed her kisses upward and along his jaw before placing a deep kiss on his mouth. Spencer whose mouth was already open in an unexpected gasp found his mouth invading by her tongue. Despite it being morning he didn't mind the idea of her morning breath.

His morning woody seemed to call attention to itself and he groaned as she inadvertently pressed her leg to his aching member. Passion soared through his body and his skin prickled with sensitivity and heat. He turned them without consciously realizing it and lifted her leg up and held it to his side so that they were firmly pressed together. Hermione gasped as she truly awoke with Spencer attacking her neck and anything else he could get at in earnest.

She wrapped her arms around him and squirmed in his grasp at the good feeling. His lips found hers and they kissed once more deeply before opening their eyes and gazing at one another.

"Good morning."

Spencer returned the smile albeit sheepishly. "Good morning."

"I could like mornings like this." Her smile turned shy, "that is if you enjoyed, I mean if you-"

"I did." Spencer soothed her worries and was rewarded with a blinding smile. At this moment they weren't who they were outside her bedroom door. They were simply a young couple that was learning to be with each other. A sound from downstairs brought Spencer back to the real world. "The others are here, we should get dressed and head downstairs."

Hermione blushed at the implication and nodded. She rolled over him and used that as an excuse to place one more chaste kiss on his lips. She strolled to her shower, seemingly happier and more at ease than Spencer had seen her in a while. Spencer on the other hand had no choice but to go downstairs in the sleeping clothes she had offered him the night before.

This was how his team saw him as he got to the bottom of his stairs. His half attempt of covering himself made them smile despite the overall gravity of the situation. Taking his clothes from where he had neatly folded them on the couch, Spencer went and changed in the first floor bathroom.

He was handed a cup of coffee and a maple donut from the local Tim Hortons (though the locals seemed to call the place 'Timmy HoHos'). They discussed information until Hermione joined them, hair still damp from her shower. An attack had occurred last night, two women that had been found propped up on the ground in the Martin Luther King Jr. Plaza on campus. Once again they were students that Hermione knew.

Instead of becoming shaken like before it was as though something had snapped. "That's enough." She stood and stormed out of the house without a coat despite the weather. Gideon held them off long enough for Hermione to become a good two hundred yards ahead of them. They strode quickly after her but lost sight when she entered the woods.

Gideon finally caught up panting. "Leave her be. She needs time to think."

"And we need her to work on the profile- she's in danger out here."

Gideon snorted. "If the unsub knows what's good for him he won't take her on. He'll be the one leaving in a body bag- that I can guarantee."

The others shared a look before following the oldest member of their group back to Hermione's small home. They felt uncomfortable being there, however they did not want to leave the house unattended for her safety.

"Harry!" Hermione trudged along once she knew she was alone. "Harry, I know you can hear me."

"Hermione." Harry was there beside a snow-covered tree.

"This needs to end."

Harry frowned at her. "It has to be done the muggle way. We can't interfere as magical beings."

"But people are dying."

"And people will always die we cannot be super heroes."

Hermione was crying and she found herself being held by her best childhood friend.

"I feel so powerless."

Harry nodded and ran his hand down her back, "I know, but there's nothing that we can do beyond using our intellect." Hermione cried harder but in the end found herself going back to her home alone. Harry would be by later if they needed more of his help, other than that he would be mostly helping via phone calls, as he was needed back in Great Britain for some kind of emergency.

She entered the house and closed the door behind her holding the knob tightly in her hand as she pressed her face to the cold glass. Arms wrapped around her and Hermione let Spencer hold her. They were alone in the hallway; the others giving them some needed personal space.

"Did you find what you needed out there?"

Hermione shrugged but didn't answer. Despite what Harry had said Hermione wasn't going to play by the rules anymore. There wasn't much she could do right now as the bodies had already been taken away and she had no access to them, but she would find other ways. Spencer put his face to her back and she could feel the heat of his breath through her thin shirt. In that moment she realized just how cold she was.

She shivered heavily and Spencer took a good look at her. Her hair, which had been wet when she left, was now made up of icicles, literal ice. He brought her into the small living room where he had already stoked a fire in preparation. Gideon put a cup of warm tea into her hands and Prentiss, surprisingly, wrapped a blanket around her.

"Was the walk worth it?" Rossi asked not unkindly.

Hermione's red-rimmed eyes met his and the older man nearly flinched. "It was fine, thank you."

The others discussed the case whilst she listened, her facial expression partially masked by her teacup which she constantly was glancing in to. They worked the case from nearly every possible angle before calling it a night. Spencer opted to stay there, though he had gone back to his hotel room to gather his belongings. This sign of solidarity and firmness in their relationship startled the team. Spencer was really going for this one way or the other.

It was awkward, at first, lying there in the bed together. Both of their thoughts lay firmly in what had conspired that morning. They both fell into uneasy sleeps within moments of each other. Hermione was awoken somewhere around four in the morning by whimpering. Used to Harry's nightmares she automatically gripped Spencer in a reassuring hug.

She was unsure what would cause Spencer to have such nightmares, however she did not doubt that whatever it was that was grieving him with such memories was no trivial matter. When his whimpers changed and he yelled out finally Hermione pressed her lips to his firmly. She repeated the action again and again across his face and hairline in order to sooth him.

He responded at last and Hermione opened her eyes to see tears in his. "Oh, Spencer." She whispered, her voice filled with raw and deep emotion.

"Don't." He his voice was hoarse and painful. She nodded and kissed him again when he pulled her down to him. Their lips met again and again. Their lips gained in sensitivity as minor amounts of saliva was passed from one to the other. This was how attraction was built; the exchanging of saliva was key in your body reacting physically to another.

Spencer was tugged on her shirt when Hermione came to her senses.

"No."

Her statement shocked him and his hands stilled instantly suddenly feeling cold.

"No?" His voice was a sensitive and broken whisper.

Hermione kissed him again with dizzying affects. "I want our first time to be after this mess ends. After we are free." Spencer nodded despite his disappointment. He understood her reason. She didn't want to associate their relationship with the monster that was terrorizing her life.

The night before Spencer had been spooned by Hermione, his more dominant partner. This time there was a change, Spencer turned her around and pulled her close to him. He knew that she had not wanted to stop their sexual encounter, but felt as though it was necessary. Today had been hard, this case had been hard and he felt the need to support her like he had supported no other person in his life before.

It occurred to him that he had not written his mother in two days. He had yet to mention Hermione in his letters, but after tonight he would have to. With the end of the case in sight, he hoped, it would now come down to decisions about their future.

Would he stay here? He shrugged internally, he really didn't know. Would she come with him? He didn't know that either. Would they survive a long distance relationship? Did he even want to try? It took a long time before Spencer fell asleep that night and it was a fitful sleep at that, though not in the same nightmarish way that Hermione had woken him from previously. This sleep was disturbed and plagued by constant plays on his insecurity for the beautiful woman he was falling in love with.

Morning came and the sun shone down on the couple in bed. None of the team came to wake them this time and Spencer awoke only when his alarm clock rang out that it was 9 and that it was time to get up and start the day. Their wake up routine was not nearly as physically pleasing and Spencer made sure to keep his distance, his fears from the night having not left him.

They dressed and left for the school in her car, it having already been dusted for fingerprints to no avail. Hermione pulled to a stop and parked the car in the lot by the Cutler Care Center. When Spencer went to open the door she locked it. Her hands regripped the steering wheel and she stared at it intently.

"Are you cross with me?" She asked, her voice neutral.

"No?" Spencer was confused.

"I refused you sex last night and since then you have barely spoken to me, you have barely touched me." She unlocked the car and stormed out before Spencer could so much as response. Even with his loping strides, Spencer found himself unable to catch up with her and when they reached the Multipurpose Room in the Union Hermione took as far away seat from him as she could possibly get.

Spencer's heart clenched. By trying to figure out what they going to do in the long run he had inadvertently hurt her in the short term. She left abruptly midway through the day and Spencer left her go starting to feel angry himself. If she wasn't going to let him explain, than maybe things weren't going to work out. He didn't like people who jumped to conclusions about him, and he especially didn't need it from her.

"What's eating her?" Morgan asked after watching Hermione storm out.

Spencer frowned, "I don't know. Maybe she's just an overemotional busybody." He made a sound of frustration before grabbing his coat and taking off himself, not to find her- but to find himself in all this mess.

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I gave you guys a lot of made-ya-look stuff and some conflict. I'm seeing maybe three/four chapters of this. Maybe? I'm deciding. Well, I'm flowing. I have the ending picked out and I know who the unsub is, though I don't think you guys do. Well, I hope I am that clever. Questions, comments, concerns, and most importantly REVIEWS should be submitted. Please? They'll help me feel better about my career choices. Anywho, hope you enjoyed will be updating soon (seriously).

iBless!


	10. A Death

Hello all!

A few things. One: If I update do not criticize my chapter length. You should be grateful that I update at all. I am a graduate student. I am working. I am going through a difficult life period. And I'm working with agents in order to get my book published. I am completely over exhausted. So, please. Don't run your mouth about my chapter length. On that note, please enjoy this! I think that it is surprising, and please give me reviews on this chapter, if you don't do any other one.

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Hermione was angry with Spencer, angry with the world, and most importantly angry with herself. She didn't know why she was and had been so over emotional. There were a lot of factors that could definitely be contributing, four major ones came to mind. The first being that she was no longer welcome in Great Britain, her home. The second being these murders, her students were being targeted. The third, not being able to catch her unsub, it was infuriating. Finally, there was Spencer. Her heart skipped a beat and then sunk heavily into her chest, a stone rather than a life giver. Since her last relationship, a disastrous affair with Ron, she was hurt. Beyond hurt. One day she had gone searching for him. That search ended with her finding him doing some searching of his own. His tongue, the good ship asshole, was exploring the great depths of Lavender Brown's cleavage and neck. After that she had taken on this case, and left.

She found herself in the Botanical Gardens at the top of the campus by the junior and senior townhouses. She sat down on a stone bench by the snow-covered gazebo. She rubbed her arms and her nose burned with the amount of cold she was feeling. The gardens were lovely any time of the year, and even now, covered in snow with dark storm clouds over head, she could still see the beauty. It was peaceful and she allowed it to fill her, she could stay here forever, really.

Her unusual behavior, she reflected, was a sign that she was completely and utterly overwhelmed. Her entire life was changing, and had been changing. It was changing so radically she could scarcely believe that it was happening. Had she been paying attention to her life, instead of everything happening around it, she might have been able to see her mental break down approaching, large and angry like a freight train. That was what had been happening, slowly but surely. Her mood swings, her irritable behavior. She was crumbling under the pressure of it all. She gripped her elbows, arms crossed in front of her, as a way to protect herself. She was both numb and screaming. She was locked and unable to move in any direction. That only meant that she could only attack herself, something that was now clearly evident to her eyes.

Making out with Spencer in a classroom? The nearly having sex? She wasn't building a relationship- she was merely concealing the fact that she wasn't healing. She needed to talk to Spencer.

Snow crunched and Hermione tensely looked up. She relaxed when she saw that it was Evan, the Greek student that had been so helpful. She adored him as a student, and she knew that the feeling was likewise. He looked surprise to see her, but smiled.

"Professor, I'm sorry to disturb you. I didn't think anyone would be here."

Hermione smiled and glanced up at the sky, noticing the predicted storm was brewing. "Not at all Evan. I was just enjoying the winter scenery." She gestured to the extra space on the bench, "sit?"

He sat next to her on the stone and she scooted over to allow him more room.

"You look distressed, if you don't mind me saying so." Evan, ever polite and concerned said to her. He was a powerful student on campus, but also so caring. She didn't know what the student body would do without him.

Hermione patted his hand. "I am simply having difficulty. I will be fine."

"Losing Regi must have been hard for you." He said quietly gazing out over the snow-covered trees. Hermione nodded silently, losing Regi was the hardest part of all these murders. The boy would have been elbow deep in this investigation.

The landscape was quiet, content and as they sat snowdrops the size of gumdrops fell. "It was, and is difficult. A shock. One moment he was there, and another moment he was gone. He was my assistant, you know, on the trip to Egypt." She paused and her eyes fixed to him. "You were on that trip, weren't you?"

Evan nodded good-naturedly. "I was."

Something felt wrong- very wrong. Hermione made a realization and stood. "The storm is hitting, we'd best be getting back inside."

Evan bent and stretched out, the perfect image of repose. He stood, "you're right, as usual, Professor." He smiled and it reached his eyes in a way that made Hermione's inside squirm. She took no hope or comfort from the fact that the smile reached there. In his eyes was something crazy and as overwhelmed she was. That made him dangerous. She reached into her pocket for her wand.

In a breath he was on her. A blinding pain rang out through her body. He was screaming, though this far from the center of campus no one would hear them.

"Why Regi?" She was stunned and even began to numb to the pain as he lowered her to the ground, still attacking. "Why didn't you love me? Why him? I loved you." She didn't have the strength to respond as she bled out onto the snow. His voice was hoarse with emotion, anger, sadness, and above all an overwhelmed and crazy sound that seemed foreign to his usually controlled and cultured voice. The violence of the attack shocked her. The perpetrator shocked her even more. Evan was always one of her favourites, and her his, but there was never any time that he tried to get her attention in more than a friendly manner. He had never really stuck out much for her, he was just simply Evan. He was not even close to the 'Regi Factor' that made her choose the now dead boy as her assistant.

Evan began to cover her and the mess with snow. The cool bit into what little feeling she had left. He had killed all those people; he had killed Regi because of her. If that was true, she deserved to die. She closed her eyes.

* * *

"My girl."

Hermione's eyes snapped open. Dumbledore stood before her looking whole and well. Despite the shock Hermione realized that she was gazing at him from an odd angle. Him being here, him talking this went against the fact that he was dead. She knew he was dead, she had seen him fall off the tower. She craned her neck to get a look around. She had been sleeping on a bench in King's Crossing Station.

"Professor." She paused, "am I dead?"

Her old professor gazed at her with the clarity that she wasn't always sure he had in life.

"Yes, you are."

She nodded and sat to process this information. It was as though her feelings were muted. She should have been more upset, she should have been screaming. But, she wasn't. Instead she focused inward and calmly contemplated. She regretted a lot of things in her life. She both regretted Ron and was thankful for him. He taught her a lot of things, and he hurt her, however she would not have turned into the person she was today without him. She both regretted and loved the wizarding world, what would her life had been like had she chosen to not attend Hogwarts. There was a long list of what she regretted but there was one thing that was not on the list.

Overall, as well as she could tell, the one thing that she did not regret was Spencer. This was something that made her frown. Maybe it was because they had been together for such a short period of time, that she didn't have time to regret him yet. It could be that they were basically soul mates, if she did the math correctly. All those thoughts aside, one rang true out through her very being. She would miss him.

"What is death like, Professor?" She asked, though it felt weird calling someone 'professor' after having been one herself.

He took a seat on the bench next to her and he smiled down at her as if she had asked the most wonderful question. "An adventure."

"I've had more than enough adventure for one lifetime, thanks."

His grin widened. "For one lifetime, maybe. Maybe not."

That look made her concerned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Reach into your pocket, I believe that there is a gift, a token of affection if you will, from Mister Potter." Hermione glanced down at her pocket suspiciously before reaching in and grabbing for something with her fingers. They found an object. It was small, round, smooth, and, above all else, cold. The most intense and unadulterated feeling since she had entered into the station was that biting cold.

She knew what it was without looking at it. "That stupid, stupid, fantastic, wonderful boy." She murmured pulling out the resurrection stone. "Brilliant."

"The question is now yours, Miss Granger. Will you go back?"

"Do I have a choice?" She asked sarcastically to her mentor.

He smiled down at her benevolently. "There is always a choice."

"Is there really?" She wanted to know. She didn't see a choice, not yet anyway.

"No one will think less of you." He wanted her to know.

Hermione shook her head, her decision made.

"I would, though."

She glanced down at the rock and clenched it in her fist. "Will you be okay, sir?" She glanced around, "you're all alone here."

His smile, if it could, widened. "Always thinking of others, Miss Granger, if I could give points to Gryffindor I would." He paused. "I will be fine. I have been here for a long time. I find it," he paused as if searching for the right words, "peaceful." Dumbledore stood. "To get back simply remember what it feels like to live"

She nodded. "Than I have a date with my murderer."

She focused on the feeling of being alive. The Station faded away and she found herself floating, somewhere in between the living and the dead. Remembering was difficult at first; her mind didn't want to. But slowly, as if warming, her memories and thought began to run faster and faster like a mountain stream waking to spring.

She concentrated on her life and it flashed before her eyes. Learning to ride a bike and then to skate. Her best friends from primary school. Her Hogwarts letter. Her life started moving more and more rapidly towards to the future. The war, becoming an 'adult'. Ron swam in and out of view, her time at the University. Her breath held when Spencer's face came into view. The memories seized and waited on the images of the first day they woke up in bed together. The unadulterated passion.

A shot blast and Hermione was buried in the snow, barely alive. Her wand was buried with her and was fit into her numb fingers. That was right, she had managed to grab it when Evan attacked her. She hadn't been able to get it up in time. Brought down by a muggle, the irony, after she fought so hard to protect them. There was very little time until she was dead again. In her other hand she held the stone. Squeezing it she received strength. With the strength she murmured a spell that healed the most grievous wounds. She felt pressure behind her ears and her teeth ached. She was alive, alright.

She was still very hurt. She needed to sit, any more time in the bitterly cold snow would kill her. Her body protested wanting to sleep. No, she thought firmly, you will obey me. Up. Her body gave one more meek murmur of protest before rising. Blood should have covered the snow, however she found that it was she that was covered. In the time that she had been dead night had fallen and a foot of snow lay across her body.

She forced herself to stand and reached for her cellphone. It was destroyed, completely saturated by snow and blood. Warily she started to make her way out of the gardens, being careful not to jostle her wounds, which had returned to bleeding sluggishly. She didn't quite remember what had happened. The memory was getting more and more faint. All she knew by the time she rounded Patch Hall that she was grievously injured.

She dared not check her wounds too thoroughly, it was better to keep moving, as the storm still raged. Instead she wrapped her clothes even tighter around her frame. It was a shame, really, this was one of her favourite outfits. She took the road less traveled and went past the Innovation Center and over the bridge that Eagle Scouts had built just that year. This route would take her behind and between buildings, fast and not in front of everyone. Not that she had much to worry about, it was white out conditions and only a fool would be out and about.

When she reached the main road between Jeness and Neville hall she stumbled and fell into a snow bank. Her body was done, finished. She couldn't remember how she had ended up in her disgraceful state, however she was pretty sure it was the person who was attacking the students on campus. She resigned herself to die, again.

Headlights poured onto her and Hermione looked up into the concerned eyes of Deb, from the police department. She was yelling into her walkie that rested on her shoulder. The portly woman leaned over Hermione and was talking to her, though Hermione couldn't hear what was being said. If death was coming, so mote it be. Her eyes shut.

* * *

"What?"

The sharp tone of Hotch's voice startled everyone in the room. The BAU had met in Spencer's hotel room. He had not been able to find Hermione, and when he went to her house he found that the lights were off. It was a clear signal to Spencer that she no longer wanted to see him. Even more hurt and dejected he had slunk back to the University Inn and was now being comforted by his coworkers.

Hotch clicked off his phone after a few more moments. He seemed to freeze, his body more tense than they had seen in a long time.

"Another body?" Rossi asked fearfully from his seat on one of the double beds.

Their team lead turned to face them, his face taunt.

"Jane has been attacked." Though he spoke to the entire group his eyes rested firmly on Spencer. There was silence as everyone watched Spencer for his reaction. The young man's eyes had widened and his breath paused. JJ rested a hand on his shoulder. He would have shrugged it off, but everyone could see that he was defeated.

"How bad?" Prentiss asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

Hotch shook his head. "I don't know. From the sounds of things, it's not good."

Spencer didn't speak. He couldn't. If he had only gone after her she would never have been attacked. She would have come back to him and they would have talked. Now, they might never get the chance to and he couldn't forgive himself for it. They piled into the cars and rode the ten minutes to Eastern Maine Medical Center. The journey down route two was silent with each agent focused on the woman who had captured their boy genius' heart.

They sat in the surgery bay waiting area for six hours before a doctor came out to speak with them.

"It was touch and go for a long time. It was a miracle more vital organs weren't hit She's very lucky."

"Do you have any idea what happened?" Hotch asked in a business like tone, though he too was shaken.

"As far as I can tell she was stabbed, at least twenty times if not more. If you want my opinion, this was absolute rage. She lost most of her blood in the attack, and then went through two more complete body blood amounts before the surgery was over."

"Will she recover?" The doctor was silent and looked uncomfortable.

"I won't make any guarantees. But I've never seen someone so thoroughly injured live."

The silence was deafening.

"Can I see her?" This was the first thing that Spencer had said since hearing of the attack. His voice was hoarse with emotion and the doctor could do nothing but nod at the man's request.

When they saw her Prentiss and JJ's hands flew to their mouths. Jane looked horrible. Her face was bruised and cut from the attack. Her arms were wrapped, obviously in ribbons. A tube that was breathing for her was taped out the corner of her mouth. She was not bright and alive, she was barely there and barely holding on.

There was a strangled sob sound and Spencer collapsed boneless into the chair. He gripped her hand in his, bandaged like the rest of her, and pressed his mouth to it over and over again. Guilt wracked him more than ever before. He should have known something was wrong.

"I found her in a snow back by the English and Engineering buildings." Deb stood in the doorway, her hat clutched roughly in her hands. She edged into the room. "We were able to trace her steps back. We found the attack site."

"Morgan, Rossi, Prentiss." Hotch commanded quietly, and the three nodded before following Deb out of the room. He, JJ, and Gideon sat and watched Spencer in his grief. They could do nothing to console him. It was obvious to anyone that the girl was most likely not going to survive. He had opened his heart to love, and now it was being ripped out.

Hotch looked up when people crowded the doorway and he followed his team out into the hall, leaving Spencer to watch over his love.

"He buried her, Hotch." Morgan was shaken. "She climbed out of the snow determined to live." Hotch realized that Morgan was feeling guilt over his treatment of the young woman, he clasped the man on the shoulder and squeezed.

"He lost control." Rossi stated. "She should have died, Hotch." His eyes were haunted. "The sheer amount of blood at the location. She should be dead, and I just don't understand why she is alive."

Back in the room Spencer heard all of this and continued to grip Hermione's hand.

"I know you used magic to survive." He whispered to her. "Why didn't you use it to stop him? Did he surprise you? Are there laws against using magic on non-magical beings?" He thought of something and stood suddenly. He made his way out into the hallway where his group was.

"She knew the attacker." Their stares met his words. "I mean, they really knew each other. She trusted him explicitly. And then he struck by surprise. She could have stopped him otherwise. She took off after the unsub, remember? She's not afraid of fighting. I remember her saying that he should be afraid of her. He ran because he could not confront her physically. This time he had the act of surprise on his side."

The team nodded in agreement. "We need to look at those close to her on campus." Hotch stated. Hotch turned to Gideon.

"You know Jane better than anyone here. Who is she close to?"

Gideon raised his hands. "I have not seen her in years. I don't know."

"Think." Spencer commanded more forcefully than any of them ever heard him speak to his former mentor. "How would someone be able to get that close to her? Who would it have to be?"

Both Gideon and Spencer shared the thought of magic before dismissing it. They would have attacked with magic, not stabbing.

"A student." JJ said. "It is what we've been profiling all along. It's one of her students."

"Let's get the list of students who went on that trip to Egypt. Cross reference it with violent pasts and those who was still on campus or close by." Hotch commanded as Morgan whipped out his cellphone to call Garcia.

Spencer with a lack of things to do, and lack of will, moved back into room. He felt helpless. Correction, he had never, in his life, felt so helpless.

"What should I do?" He asked her prone figure.

Hermione, of course, did not answer. She would not answer for another two days.

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I hope you enjoyed! Please review! This is the most important chapter to review for. I just rewrote some of it and uploaded it again. Hope you enjoy the changes!

iBless!


	11. A Will

**A/N: Hey all! It has been forever! Long story short is that someone went into my office and stole my laptop from out of my bag, which was located underneath my desk. I lost absolutely everything, from my stories, to all my artwork, to my important data and research from my entire semester of national cross-institutional research that I had been doing about campus rape and sexual assault. This all happened on the last day of the last week of classes. I had to make a big presentation of my findings on that Monday, which gave me two days and some odd hours to work on that, create a new literature with all new materials, read the new materials (as well). This does not include my psychological developmental theory papers and finals. Graduate school is hard on its own, without someone jacking off my life source. It kind of blew my muse. However, here is this! And I am happy to say that it is longer than the most recent chapters have been, and I think that it is a pretty good one. I am not going to make any promises about updates, please don't constantly pester me.**

**With that being said, enjoy this. And also, I have been playing with a one-shot plot bunny in my head of Hermione/Morgan (obviously not attached to this story). What do you think?**

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"'Scuse me."

The team looked up to see Evan at the door. Hermione had woken up only this morning, and that allowed the team a little more breathing room.

"Evan." Gideon nodded.

The young man grinned nervously at them. "The Greeks were wondering how Professor Erman is doing."

Hotch gazed at him, "Tell the Greeks that she's doing fine. She'll make it."

A look crossed Evan's face; the team interpreted it as relief.

"And the guy?"

Morgan crossed his arms and shook his head, "gone. She didn't remember a thing from the attack."

"Check with the Greeks, see if anyone knows anything?" Hotch asked and Evan nodded briefly before leaving.

Spencer never left Hermione's side and this time was no exception. Her hand squeezed his when Evan showed up at the door and he smiled at her. It was nice to see such a reaction. She had suffered a stroke not long after the team had arrived at her room and they were delighted to see the recovery.

Both hands worked and it seemed as though the Hermione that he knew was in there.

The killings stopped for a month and the team was preparing to leave. Since the attack on Jane nothing had happened at all in the community and they could find nothing.

Hermione stepped out of her car with Spencer's hand guiding her. She was unsteady on her feet and her reflexes were not all too fantastic due to her stroke, however she was on the mend. The witch took that moment to smile up at her now constant companion.

They had spent most of the past month working through their issues. Spencer got her up the stairs and into the house using his key. She had told him about Ron and begun to heal. The FBI agents had already cleared the house, and had stationed an unmarked car outside filled with local PD. It was unlikely that the unsub would attack Hermione in her home, however they were taking no chances. It was an almost one hundred percent that he would come after her again, it was now only just a matter of time.

Time was something that the BAU didn't have. They were already clogged with cases and were now being pulled, something that they hadn't expected. Hermione was unsteady on her feet and tripped, Spencer caught her steadied her with a hand on her hip.

"Woah there, maybe you should have stayed in the hospital one more day."

Hermione shook her head forcefully causing another stumble. Spencer wisely sat her on her couch before darting to the kitchen to begin on tea. Placing a hand down on a rune carved into a stone coaster that had been placed on her counter. Her faucet sprang out with water falling forward and not down. It flew across the room and into her teakettle, which turned in on its own accord. Two mugs walked themselves out of the cupboard before sitting down onto the counter. A carrying tray wheeled itself out of its place from beside the microwave and the mugs placed themselves on the tray with a series of tea bags. The kettle screamed and lifted as though by hands to pour itself into the mugs.

Spencer could not contain the gleeful smile that now adorned his face. Hermione had set up a residual power system for simple things. It was set up in runes all over the house; the living room one was currently acting up, thus his necessary trip to the kitchen. Not that he complained, he got to watch the magic. Picking up the tray with a contented noise Spencer carried it into the living room and stopped short upon seeing Hermione asleep on the couch.

He doubted that he would be able to carry her; at best he would probably drop her. Instead Spencer set down the tray and pushed her plush center ottoman towards the couch to create a fuller surface before wrapping a couch blanket around the sleeping witch. He then took a book from his satchel, Hogwarts a History, and set to reading it with a nice cup of tea.

"I'd like to stay." Spencer was speaking to the team as they were packing up their office in the Multipurpose Room. "Until the case is finished." He amended in his scrupulously honest manner.

"Out of the question." Morgan started before Hotch interrupted him.

"Actually I think that it would be good if a member of this team stayed here."

"Then let it be me." Morgan's tone left little room for argument.

"No."

"Hotch."

"Morgan." Hotch placed a hand on Derek's shoulder. "I need Reid to stay here, just as I need you to come with me."

Morgan attempted to protest but another stern look from Hotch had him slamming down the box he was carrying before storming out.

Spencer gave Hotch a grateful look before grabbing his already packed boxes and moving to the police car that was parked in the MLK plaza waiting for them.

The others left via flight from Bangor International and Spencer moved from the hotel into Hermione's house, something that made them both frightfully nervous. The first night Spencer slept on the couch, this was a trend that followed until the fourth night at dinner.

Spencer slurped his noodles and put down the Chinese food box. He played with his chopsticks intensely before looking at his girlfriend. That seemed too juvenile, lover? They had not yet become intimate. Special friend? Now he sounded like someone hiding his gay lover. In the end he settled upon just referring to her as 'Mine'. Until they moved in one direction or the other, it seemed to be the best course of action.

He cleared his throat and Hermione looked up from her Yaki-Udon. They had ordered from Green Tea, as it was her favourite restaurant and she had noticed little else in her food-elicited pleasure.

"I'm sleeping with you tonight."

Hermione mouth popped open slightly in a very attractive, if comical, expression. It worked soundlessly a few times before the orifice actually worked.

"Okay."

It was quiet and timid. They hadn't tried being intimate and had worked their relationship back down to the bare bones. Hermione had taken the month and few days to begin healing. Spencer, being well, Spencer was a complete help. Despite being relatively unknown in the world of dating, his knowledge in psychology made him very understanding. That, and Hermione mused, the fact that he was a complete sweet heart.

The rest of supper was quiet, each person focusing on his or her own thoughts. Spencer complemented himself on his bold step. He was nervous. He didn't think anything would happen, health wise it was just not safe yet. The stroke had left her with nerve pain and weakness on the left side of her body. It would be foolish of them to try anything sexual. He knew all of this and yet nothing could stop the harsh beating of his heart as it strained forcefully in his chest.

Two hours later saw them curled up in bed. Hermione laid with her head and body tucked ever so lightly across Spencer's body. What they thought was going to be an awkward moment had turned out to be a relief. It was as though their bodies were made for one another a perfect match. Hermione smiled at the thought. She had yet to tell Spencer about the idea of him being her perfect match. She would, eventually, but right now with the case and herself being so unpredictable, she didn't want to risk hurting him.

She doubted that she would ever let the killer have a jump on her like that again. A frown marred her features and she unconsciously snuggled further into her lovers' embrace. Her memory and recall, damaged first from coming back to life, and then secondly from the stroke had left her with nearly no recognition of the attack. The only thing that she remembered about the whole thing was that she was incredibly comfortable and friendly with this student. That pained her even further; this meant that it was a friend, or at least someone that she trusted.

A hand gliding through her hair halted that train of thought and she found that Spencer had been talking to her. "When you were attacked, I was so scared." This was a new story for her. Yes, they had talked about her being attacked; it needed to be in the case file. This story and his pain, which was raw and evident in his voice, made Hermione's heart ache.

"I thought that I would never see you again, that you'd've died and we would never make up from our fighting. I was so angry. I was so lost. Had you succumbed to your injuries." Spencer paused, "had you died." He shuddered, "I don't know what I would have done. You've already become such a part of me."

Hermione turned her head up to look at him, the awkward angle made her neck ache but, in her opinion, it was worth it. "I'm too stubborn to die." She said, and caressed his fingers with hers. "At least, not completely." She paused. "Spencer, I did die, out there in the snow." Spencer tensed and she gripped his hands with hers. "I died and came back to life, not in a Jesus Christ, Biblical, kind of way, but in a best-friend-sticks-a-powerful-magical-artifact-in- your-pocket kind of way."

"Explain?" Spencer whispered ever so slightly, any louder and he feared that he was vomit from anxiety.

"The person." Hermione's memory played it out hazily, what he was wearing, that the man was light skinned and slight, brown hair, "he killed me. I was dead Spencer. Harry had given me an artifact, the resurrection stone. Well, really, he hid it in the jacket of my coat, but still. When I died, it brought me back to life. It wouldn't have worked if I was all-dead, but there was still some life left in my body. I remember being given a choice. I came back to you. Fight or no fight."

Spencer pushed her off of him gently before using his arm to take his weight and hover over her. With all the grace and ease he could muster, Spencer placed a kiss down onto Hermione's lips. A fire ignited in both of them and Spencer sighed most heartedly before placing his forehead against hers. "I hope that this is not too bold of me to say." He paused trying to find the words, "but I cannot wait until you are better," he gripped her hips firmly, but not hurtfully so, in his hands, "and I can have you, all of you. I want to be with you," he blushed rather prettily, "I want to be in you, on you, I want to make you feel beautiful."

Hermione's fire ignited even higher and her breath stilled for a moment. Yes, what he was saying was bold, however. She wanted nothing more than for him to take her right now. Alas, it was not the time, and she was not well enough. It would have to wait.

"It is not too bold." She whispered, though her voice trembled with barely controlled want.

Spencer groaned, hearing the need in her voice. "Another time." The breathy statement sent shivers down Hermione's spine.

"You have no idea."

They rolled over now and held one another, though Spencer could not stop the hand the slid up her shirt to cup a breast, not sexually, just wanting to hold her, possess her, have her his. Hermione's hand, he found, had made its way into his sleeping shorts and rested quite comfortably over his upper inner thigh and his manhood area. Their time would come, but for now, it was time to sleep and time to regain strength. Once this was over, once the bad guy had been caught, then they would finally be able to possess and have one another in ways that had only lived in their imagination. They would win.

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**I hope that you enjoyed this latest installment! It is not the longest, or the most plot filled, however it definitely gets us going to where we need to be. I'm thinking that this will end at chapter 15, with this being chapter 11. Oh, and yay! We broke 100 reviews, and so many followers! Keep those reviews coming!**

**Cheers.**

**iBless!**


	12. A Step

**I hope that you all have been waiting patiently! If anyone is interested I also have a second HP/CM crossover fiction. This one is Harry/Penelope. Hey, don't knock it until you try it, and who knows, maybe more pairings will show up eventually. I am almost at the end of this semester and I am so thankful. This semester has been going much better with me taking classes in my concentration instead of in the generalized program. I am very happy with my results.**

**Anyway, I hope that you all enjoy this! A little background and step forward I believed was in order.**

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"How did she survive?"

Evan's arm moved with the rapid and heated force of his anger.

"Woah, Evan. Take a chill." Evan turned to see one of his Brothers and his face shifted into a sheepish smile. He let go of the knife that he had been using to mince vegetables.

"Sorry, just you know. Bad day."

His Brother, Anthony nodded and pulled up a chair to sit by Evan in the kitchen.

"Bad class? IFC got you down? I know that they're messing with Bearfest a lot, and it is an important thing."

It was true the Inter-Fraternity-Council was made up of a bunch of morons. Working with them was, however, a way to mask anything that he might do. Bearfest. Evan couldn't stop the grin from seeping on to his face. He would strike again there. The dance twenty-four hour marathon was a staple to the University of Maine society and if there was anything that he had come to enjoy, it was destroying that community.

He had no intention of becoming a killer. He just had a natural affinity for the activity, and it just happen almost without his help. Death followed him. Victoria had been an accident. They had fought, and it had been storming. His temper got the best of him, and he shoved her. It had been late a night, they had been walking and talking about their relationship, what was going to happen. He was happy with her. They stopped walking and they had taken some time sliding up and down the handicap ramp in front of Colvin Hall. Somehow they got into the topic of what was going to happen in spring, his graduating and her staying behind for another year. It was then that he had pushed her, shoved her lightly, really. She fell all the same, however or whatever his intention had been, due to ice.

A particularly hard burst of wind, as was common on this campus, blew and they both heard a crack. They looked up. Evan felt something wet spray across his cheek, a wild and different feeling from the cold that had numbed his outsides.

"No!"

Evan grabbed her and tucked Victoria's head into his shoulder. He got ready to yell out for help with something distracted him. His fingers had found his way into the wound that still held the large icicle. He felt disgusted in himself, however he couldn't stop the compulsion of shifting the cold and smooth piece of frozen water back and forth in her body. Shaking his head to clear it, Evan stared in something akin to horror at Victoria's body. He checked her pulse; it was weak and fading quickly. Suddenly, she gasped and her body convulsed wildly. This continued for long minutes until finally, with her eyes wide, she stopped moving and her breath ceased.

Cursing his poor luck, Evan did the first thing that he could think of doing- he moved the body.

"Yo, bud." Evan flinched at the hand on his shoulder and looked up into the eyes of Anthony.

"Sorry, this whole crazy murder scene is still getting to me."

Anthony nodded, "I feel you. I hope that they catch this dirty bastard. I hate what he's doing to our campus."

"Maybe he has his reasons." Anthony's look made Evan raised his hands in surrender, "I'm just saying, we can't know or understand everything in the world."

"That was deep, man." Anthony quirked a smile and patted Evan good-naturedly on the back before standing and stretching. He pushed his chair back and grabbed a slice of carrot that was on the chopping board. "Either way, I want this guy caught before Derby Days, because if Greek Week is ruined for me, I'll be crushed." Evan nodded, as though to show agreement and turned back to his cooking once Anthony had left.

"Simple minded fool." He muttered himself before continuing his chopping. He loved his Brothers; it was about the only thing that he seemed to love. It was a chosen family and they bonded. There was nothing quite like being in a Brotherhood. That was why he would never attack one of his own Brothers. He would never do anything to hurt them.

That thought made him pause in his movements. If he were caught, it would ruin the Brotherhood. He would destroy the Brotherhood. Evan shifted uncomfortably before setting back to his task. Well, simply put, that meant that he could never be caught. And, really, he could stop killing any time he wanted to. He just hated Professor Erman, and by extension the University of Maine community who had accepted her so readily.

Victoria's accident had at first been a tragedy, but now, he supposed, it was meant to be. He had finally been able to kill that sniveling little gaming weasel that always was with Professor Erman. Blocking her view of him. Blocking the potential of their relationship.

Now, she was with that FBI agent. He wouldn't stand a chance going toe to toe with one of those men: he wasn't stupid. Even if the guy was the stringiest man ever. He had come so close with that poisoned necklace, but she had managed to fix him. How did she get the antidote? He would love to find that out.

When he had seen Professor Erman in the garden that day he had actually had no intention of harming her. As much as he hated her, he loved her. But something inside of him snapped when he realized that she had already replaced Regi with that agent, and thus by extension, had replaced Evan again.

In a way, Evan was glad that she had survived. With every kill he knew that he was causing her heartache and pain- like what she was causing in him. And with every successful get away, he made her doubt her intelligence. It was the perfect revenge for not loving him, really. He would destroy her from the inside out.

None of them would ever suspect good old Evan, who was so willing to help out. Evan who's sister had been murdered, and so he was vengeful against any and all killers. Unless she remembered something, which he doubted that she would: amnesia due to traumatic episodes was usually pretty finite, he was in the clear.

Evan laughed.

Greek Death

Spencer and Hermione went over her student lists again and again, desperately searching for answers. "There's nothing here." She finally said before closing the file with disgust and sitting back into her plush couch with a sigh.

Spencer did not respond to her, he was too involved with what he was reviewing, and she smiled. That was something that she could respect, and took no offence to his seeming inattention. That level of concentration was one that she usually had, but ever since her attack her mind had felt funny.

She was frustrated, no amount of memory charms or restoring potions helped, and while she knew that those things weren't magic fixers, though their origins were magical, she couldn't help her traitorous feelings. She should have never been caught unaware. That was the only way that someone could have taken her. She should always have her guard up.

A murmured sound from Spencer stopped that train of thought. She didn't have to have her guard up with him. In fact, she was quite pleased with her ability to be open and supporting of her partner. They worked well together, despite their inability to agree on a variety of subjects.

Spencer had been here three weeks already since the team had left. He had moved in to her house, and into her bed. Nothing overly sexual had happened, much to her chagrin, though she understood the gravity of the situation. She did, however, appreciate the comfort that him sleeping with gave her. It was nice to have a man around, especially one that could clean up after himself.

If only she could remember. She would give anything to solve this murder. If only she could find a way to remember. This phrase turned into a mantra for the next few days until a horribly brilliant idea came to her. Spencer, it seemed, also had a brilliant deduction because they both stood with a triumphant sound from her couch and simultaneously struck one another.

Falling onto the couch clutching various body parts the two laughed with apparent relief at their individual solutions, as well as the incident.

"Why are you laughing?" Hermione asked, placing a hand tenderly down on his knee.

Spencer smiled, "I think I have an idea of who the killer could be. I need to call the team."

Hermione smiled at him and kissed him soundly on the lips. "My little genius."

Spencer returned the kiss and asked her, "And, why were you laughing?"

"I believe I may have found a way to return my memory."

Spencer's smile widened, if at all possible, and he planted a firm kiss on her lips.

"It seems as though we both have work to do. Genius-teamwork-abilities." He joked as they stood from the couch. Spencer went stayed in the living room to call the team and Hermione went up into her attic.

In her attic was the solution to her memory issue, she just knew it.

* * *

**Does anyone know what is in the attic? Cliff hanger! And, what could Reid have realized? Find out next time! Or, maybe you won't if I don't enough reviews to sacrifice to the almighty Muses Calliope and Erato!**

**Anywho, **

**Cheers!**

**iBless!**


	13. A Deflowering

**Here is a nice extra long chapter for my patient readers. I am in the process of moving, well I have been. I moved from Maine to Massachusetts, and now I am moving to Georgia. All in the sake of education. Blimey. Anyway, here is a little taste of the future. I have changed some things around, and will be changing them in previous chapters as I go along. The first victim's name has been changed from Katie to Victoria. The second thing is the age of which Evan's sister had been murdered. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this chapter.**

**Warning: This chapter contains suggestive material. While not explicit, one should take caution. I will denote that section so you can read around it.**

* * *

Reid called the team and waited for them to pick up. "Reid, you're on speaker phone." Hotch answered and Reid nodded.

"Do me a favour, is Garcia there?" He asked there was a sound of murmuring and shuffling of papers before a door slammed and he heard Garcia's voice.

"What do you need my liege?"

A smile traced its way onto Reid's face. "I think that I have an idea who the killer is, could you please look up the file for Evan Gilbson?"

"I can do that when I get to my office. Give me ten minutes." The phone went dead and Reid lowered his cell down into his hands. Absently, he tapped the phone against the opposing palm in a repetitive motion that soothed his nerves. When his phone finally ran again Reid whipped it open and shoved the phone against his ear.

"Hello everyone. As far as details go we have a Mister Evan Gilbson, chapter president of Sigma Epsilon Alpha, or Sig Ep as it is more commonly known. Gilbson is originally from New Jersey, and is now attending the University of Maine and is studying Political Science and Public Policy." There was the sound of more typing and Reid felt himself growing strangely impatient.

"What about his life before UMaine?"

"Looking." Garcia confirmed before making tutting sounds whilst typing. "Yes, here. Gilbson grew up with parents, who are now separated. Martha and Evan Senior cited irreconcilable differences. He had a sister, oh." More typing. "His sister was murdered when she was seven and he was thirteen. She was found shot to death in their basement. Eyewitnesses reported seeing a tall male with dark hair fleeing the scene of the crime. No one was ever arrested and the case is considered open and cold."

Reid made a sound and Hotch caught on that even over the telephone. "What are you thinking, Reid?"

Reid paused, all of what was just read to him was fitting in perfectly. "I believe that this wasn't Evan's first killing."

"You think that he murdered his sister." Prentiss stated and Reid nodded before realizing that his team could not see him.

"Yes, I do."

"Alright, don't make a move on him until we get there, wheels up in thirty." Hotch's calm and in control voice instantly put Reid at ease and it was only a few more minutes before he hung up the call and started to wander the house for Hermione.

He found the girl sitting in her attic and he was at once intrigued.

"What are you doing?" He asked, startling her into a jump.

Hermione turned to face him and Reid saw a strange expression on her face, one of fear. "I'm scared, Spencer."

Instantly Spencer was on the floor beside her and opened his legs. Scooting until she was seated in between his legs, Spencer wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. "Of what?"

Hermione refused to meet his face. "I can watch the attack that took place. I can rip the memory straight from my head and put it in this." She tapped a stone bowl on her floor. "But I'm scared to watch it. To see whomever it is attack me. To watch me die."

"But you didn't die." Spencer said soothingly and Hermione shook her head.

"Spencer, I did die." She now met his eyes. "I came back to life using something called a 'Deathly Hollow'. Harry had hidden the Resurrection Stone in my coat pocket, and when I died, it brought me back. I was dead."

Spencer's heart stopped cold and he was feeling quite uneasy. For a variety of reasons. He knew that she had told him this story before, but it seemed different now. First was that she had died, at this point he couldn't imagine life without her. The second reason frightened him, she had been resurrected. It went against all science, and all sanctity of life. If there was ever a reason for him to fear her and her magic, this was it. They were silent for a long time, Reid examining these emotions and reasoning over and over again.

His fear had solidified when Hermione tried to climb out of his arms. "You hate me." She stated in a breathless and yet emotion ridden voice.

It was then that the world stopped. He should not be fearing her. So many things had happened in this girl's life, and if he were to do this, go through with his fear and let it consume him. The consequences of his behavior would be significant. He loved her, he already knew that. He wasn't sure how their relationship was going to continue, but he wanted it to.

There were so many things that he loved about her, from her laugh to her ferocious intelligence that could match his. He could not forsake her now, even when her life was now unnatural. He could not belie his hear. The fear which had taken route in him began to recede. He loved her, more than he had loved any one person in his entire life.

Reaching forward Spencer grasped Hermione's arm as she finally got loose and in a surprising show of rarely used strength, he pulled her back into his arms. Hermione's head turned to question him and Spencer covered her lips with his. He had been getting steadily bolder with her, and this was no exception. Taking charge of the situation, Spencer thrust his tongue into her open mouth and she gasped at the contact.

It wasn't long before she was quivering in his hands and Spencer took his chance. He stood and picked up Hermione from her place on the floor. He carried down the stairs and placed the nervous witch on her bed.

It had been two months since her attack. She was healed due to magical means and Spencer did not hesitate before he pulled her leg and slid her down the bed before clambering on top of her. She was radiant to him. Her cheeks were flushed with a delicious pink colour that made Spencer's pants tight with want.

He kissed along her cheek and then down her neck. One arm propped him up over her body, his other arm and hand were another matter entirely. The appendage crept along until his hand found its way under her shirt. It slid up the soft skin of her stomach and up to cup her bra covered breast. Her gasps, if possibly, deepened and started to occur more frequently.

**LemonyGoodness**

In one swift motion of strength, Spencer rid Hermione of her shirt and stared down at her body in wonder. In all this time he had never allowed him with her when she was shirtless. He looked now upon her body and became divided. One part of him was horrified by the sheer amount of scar tissue that ran across her skin, his hand had just missed it when he had traced up her. There were dents from puncture marks and scars that were obviously younger than all the rest.

Hermione lifted her hands to block herself from his view and Spencer caught her arm in his hand. The other part of him, the one that wasn't in shock from the pain that she had obviously endured was revealing itself. He groaned as though he had no sense control and delved his face between her breasts. They were lovely dipped there, and Spencer kissed the scar tissue heavily.

"You are beautiful." He murmured. Her scars weren't ugly, they were a sign of her strength, and nothing could ever be more beautiful than that.

"Liar." Hermione whispered with haggard breath.

Spencer shook his head and leaned down to trace her body with first his nose and then his tongue. "I find you to be magnificent. Your scars are just another part of you." He kissed his way down from her breasts to where her waistband was located. A sharp gasp alerted him to his lover's growing arousal and he grinned before lighting sweeping his tongue across the area.

Resuming his previous position, Spencer devoured Hermione's mouth while his hand worked at her pants button and zipper. Without warning he delved his fingers under the fabric and into her folds. Hermione groaned loudly and without control, shuddering under his hand.

"I have every intention of pleasuring you." Spencer murmured as his fingers played across her womanhood. He had never done this before, never had his hand anywhere close to any female's area and especially not like this. But, as any good student is prone to do, he had researched it thoroughly.

Hermione gasped his name and it was as though Spencer's arousal and lust grew threefold. He had made a woman gasp his name. A beautiful, smart, and most importantly, his, woman.

Spencer leaned back onto his knees and pulled Hermione up to him, his occupied hand never wavering in its movement. Hermione's breaths came in short gasps and she leaned against his chest as though she had no strength. It was quite possible that she didn't at this point, the idea brought an uncharacteristic smirk to Spencer's lips. He could get used to this. The power and hegemonic masculinity was intoxicating, as was Hermione.

With ease Spencer unclasped the bra with one hand, a move that Derek had once upon a time explained to him. He felt the weight of Hermione's breasts hit his chest and his pants became unbearably tight. Unable to fight the feeling any longer Spencer reluctantly removed his hand from Hermione's folds and moved to relieve the pressure on his manhood.

Smaller hands reached there before he did, to his surprise, and Spencer found himself being stripped of his pants. The hands hesitated on the band of his boxer briefs and Spencer made the decision to meet the hand there. Together they lowered the article of clothing down until Spencer to kick it off. He sprung free of his confines and Spencer closed his eyes at the release of pressure.

The groan changed drastically when something wet and hot enveloped him. His eyes opened and Spencer had never experienced a more arousing sight than Hermione kneeling before him on all fours, topless, with her head bobbing up and down between his legs. Unable to stop himself, Spencer grabbed her head and forced it down. Hermione did not waver in her work and Spencer felt his eyes roll back in his head.

A different kind of pressure was building, but before it could release Spencer remembered what he had intended to do. It took all of his self-control to push her off of him and Hermione glanced up at him in clear confusion.

"Today is about you." He murmured to her as he laid her back on the bed. Once she had reclined back on her pillows Spencer swooped down and took one of her pert nipples in his mouth. He sucked and bit the appendage, not with expertise, but with enthusiasm. A hand hesitantly reached for one of his and Spencer let it be guided up to Hermione's neglected hub. He was elated that she wished to show him what she wanted. He was new to this whole thing, and only wanted to please her. He immediately went to work on her other breast before switching places a few minutes later.

With one hand he pinched and twisted her sensitive nipple, the other, Spencer had an idea. He snuck the hand down until it rested between her legs and before she could react Spencer had put his fingers up into her folds, teasing her and feeling her wetness and heat. If the level of moisture were anything to go on, and Spencer knew that it was, he deemed himself to be doing a top-notch job.

He hesitated now, unsure about the next step that he promised himself he would take. Steeling himself for the reaction Spencer inserted a digit deep into her. Hermione gasped loudly and arched her back. Seeing as he had encouragement, Spencer continued to pump in and out of her first with one digit and before long he had added a second.

She was writhing underneath him and Spencer felt high with the level of power and intensity, the freedom that he felt knowing that he was causing her so much pleasure. He could tell that she was close and so Spencer removed his fingers from inside her and started working her special area over and over again. Her body seized forcefully and her hand came to rest on his arm. Spencer nodded in understanding and stopped all movement as Hermione road her wave of pleasure. She arched and convulsed once, twice, three times and then was still, her breath coming in short pants.

Spencer leaned over her, feeling his body press to hers oh so sweetly, when had her pants been removed? And pressed a kiss to her lips. She moaned into his mouth, still in the thralls of her passion and something happened that Spencer had not expected.

At once his member was slammed into a tight and warm channel. Fireworks exploded behind his eyes and Spencer felt himself thrust once and then twice before coming to his senses, he tried to pull out, however Hermione's hands were there on his buttocks, preventing him from removing himself.

"No." He murmured, painfully. He had not wanted to have sex with her. He knew that she wanted to wait until the case was over. He did not want his first time having sex to be fraught with disappointment and rage.

Hermione was there kissing along his jaw and then down his neck. His member gave a harsh throb and Spencer had to take a deep breath in order to control himself.

"Yes." She stated and she arched her neck so that her lips and teeth could take purchase on his earlobe, something she knew he loved. "I want you to take me. Right here, right now. No regrets. No waiting until this finishes. This has been controlling our lives for long enough."

"Hermione." Spencer groaned at a loss. He wanted to move so badly, but he was afraid. Suddenly this all seemed like a horrible idea.

His member was suddenly cold and Spencer found Hermione had removed herself from their embrace. She got to her knees and forced him over onto his back. He was once again struck with her beauty. Spencer was utterly surprised when she straddled him and rubbed the tip of his member with her lady region.

Spencer gasped once, twice, and reached blindly for her. His hands found her hips and with eyes shut he whispered, "Are you sure you won't regret this?"

He got his answer when Hermione slammed herself down on him. Spencer found himself arching off of the bed from the pleasure and had to release her in order to clench and release the covers repeatedly in his ecstasy.

The pressure built and built until Spencer couldn't hold back. He sat up with force and took a nipple in his mouth, another hand went between them to play with her and he was able to hold on long enough so that when she started to convulse in the stream of her own pleasure, he released himself into her.

**LemonyGoodnessEnd**

They kissed over and over again until finally, Hermione removed herself from him and Spencer found himself lonely at the loss of contact. He had waited so long to be in her, and even longer to lose his virginity.

"Was that a mistake?" He asked fearfully as she curled into him and tucked her head onto his chest.

She nuzzled his chest and placed a kiss there. "I will never, ever regret anything that I do with you. Never a single minute, nor a single second."

"I was a virgin." Spencer confessed suddenly, needing her to know and needing her to understand.

She shot off him as though she had been burned. Tears formed in her eyes before quickly streaming down her face.

"I took it from you. I didn't even ask. I just did." She continued to babble until Spencer sat up and brought her to his chest with his arms and legs wrapped around her in a form of a Spencer cocoon.

"I've wanted to do that with you for so long." He said simply and rocked his distressed lover, he could use that term fully now. "You have no idea what it felt for me to finally be inside of you. To be a part of you, to complete you. I could not have asked for a better first time."

"Really?" She asked him glancing up at his face from where he held her protectively.

Spencer kissed her squarely on the nose. "It's not everyday that a person loses his virginity to a very famous witch. My virginity was taken by the world famous Hermione Granger." He smiled at her in a way that she doubted any person, especially his teammates, had ever seen. "And, she road me so all I had to do was lay there and watch."

Hermione shoved him lightly with her hand, blushing.

"I only am sorry that I didn't last that long for you."

Hermione kissed his chest tenderly. "It was your first time, you'll gain more stamina, and besides." She winked at him. "I already made you ejaculate in your pants once."

Spencer growled and wrestled her back down onto the bed. "You just had to bring that up, didn't you."

Hermione nodded vigorously until their lips met.

They continued kissing and lightly petting for another half hour until Spencer's phone started to ring. With laughter the two disentangled themselves and began to search the room for his phone. In their hasty love making the comforter had been thrown to the floor and their clothes were in various piles.

Hermione finally found it underneath her bra, (how had it gotten there?) and answered it. "Doctor Reid's phone." Her breath came out in a short gasp as Spencer had snuck up behind her and taken her breasts in each hand. He gave her nipples a particularly harsh squeeze and twist that he had recently discovered she enjoyed. She gasped.

"Jane, what are you doing answering Reid's phone?" Hotch's voice came through clearly and the two genius' immediately stopped what they were doing and separated feeling dirty.

"I'm here, Hotch. I had been in the restroom, and so Jane answered my phone for me."

There was the sound of quiet laughter, and Spencer realized with mortification that he had been on speakerphone. The noises that he had made Hermione make. What had he been thinking? There was an obvious answer, he hadn't been and that was so unlike him. In retrospect, almost everything about his and Hermione's relationship was unlike him.

"Right, Pretty boy. Anyway we'll be landing in a little over a half hour. We'll come to Jane's house for the meeting, if she agrees." Spencer cast Hermione a look and she nodded while searching for where her panties had gone to.

"That will work, we'll be here, ready and waiting."

"Good." Spencer moved to end the call when he heard Rossi.

"And Reid?"

"Yes, sir?" Spencer asked, ever obedient.

"Make sure you two are dressed." Spencer's face lit up like a Christmas tree with blush as he could hear his team laughing as they clicked off the phone. The team had heard. The rational part of his mind doubted that he team thought that he had participated in sex. But it was obvious that the two of them had been in the thralls of something, and that was enough to make Spencer embarrassed.

Hermione walked up to him with a sinful sway of her hips. She grabbed his limp member and gave it a squeeze to tease him. "We'd better get dressed."

Spencer nodded, however he surprised both of them by tackling her back onto the bed and ravaging her lips one last time. When he left the bed to get dressed, Hermione lay stunned in her sheets. She picked one hell of a man.

It was not ten minutes later when the two sat back up in the attic. Spencer had once again wrapped his larger frame around hers to provide comfort and strength. With him beside her, Hermione felt comfortable enough to concentrate on the missing memory, or rather where the memory should have been. She remembered entering the garden and then when the feeling of nothing was approaching, she pulled her wand from her temple with patience.

The memory dropped like fat into the pensieve and Hermione looked at Spencer. She had explained how this whole thing worked, and Spencer agreed to come with her into the memory- rather he had demanded to be there. She took his hand and together they leaned down and into the stone bowl that swirled with her past.

The first memory that they touched down in was the final battle. Hermione couldn't help but stare as she battled one-on-one with Bellatrix Lestrange. They were both heavily injured, however Hermione was steadily gaining the upper hand. When she was about to kill the other witch Hermione tugged on Spencer's hand and walked them away from the memory.

"I'd rather you not see me as a killer." She murmured to them as they walked through the fog.

Spencer shrugged. "You were a soldier in times of war, a hero. I could see the battle raging around you two. You aren't a killer."

Hermione stopped their progression and stared at him. "Spencer, a killer is a killer."

Spencer squeezed her hand. "Then we're both killers, it is our cross to bear."

"Together?"

He squeezed her hand again at the vulnerability in her voice. "Absolutely."

With a final look Hermione led them into the appropriate memory and stopped short seeing herself run from the multipurpose room. She had apparently pulled out more than she wanted to. She made to fast-forward it, however Spencer stopped her.

"I want to see this." He murmured to her lowly and Hermione watched as he let go of her hand to follow her past self. This was a portion of Spencer's guilt that she knew he still carried with him. He still believed that if he had gone after her, she never would have been attacked.

"Stupid Spencer." Her past self muttered as she traipsed through the campus. She continued to mutter abuses about the man until she came to her car. She reached into her pocket for the keys to come up empty.

"I left my keys in the multi-purpose room." She wailed dramatically before turning on her foot and headed out of the parking lot. She strode up Long Rd and towards the gardens. It was the place where she could think and be herself.

"Spencer." She muttered mournfully as she began the long climb. "I'm afraid." She confessed to herself. "Afraid that he won't see me as attractive once he sees me under these clothes." She had to be honest with herself. "I know that he wasn't angry because I refused him sex. I know, and yet. I don't know."

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms and said something that tore through the present Hermione's core. "He's not Ron. I can open myself to him. He won't cheat on me. I won't be 'just Hermione'," she sniffled. "It's just. It still hurts. He never truly wanted me, he just used me. I gave him everything. I'm just looking for a reason to make this relationship not work, because I am afraid."

She reached the point where she had to cross the road in order to reach the gardens. She was quiet until she got through the gate and then began her walk through the twisting paths. For a few long moments she looked at the pound that was iced over. "I think that I love him. He's my soul mate. And yet I push him away. What is the matter with me?" With a sigh she trudged away from the lake and up another path until she came and sat down on one of her favourite benches.

Spencer felt his hand being grabbed and he was shook from watching Hermione to see Evan wandering through the garden. He looked troubled. This confirmed everything. It was Hermione who gasped and began to cry as she confirmed the identity of her attacker. "Evan." She murmured mournfully.

They watched the attack unfold in full and Hermione buried her face into Spencer's chest as she watched Evan bury her body. Time sped up and Hermione's shallow grave became more and more buried. No one ever went in here during winter, if she had not woken up, she would not have been found until spring. A hand suddenly shot from beneath the snow and the memory began to fade.

Spencer and Hermione found themselves huddled in her attic, both crying in earnest at what they had witnessed. Spencer was crying both because he had seen how she had been hurting, and how she had struggled. That yes, maybe he could have prevented the attack. He was also crying because he was not used to magic, in his form of reality he just watched his girlfriend get murdered and then come back to life.

It wasn't a crime against nature that she had come back. She was sent back, like an angel and he would cherish her as one.

"Marry me?" He asked her as they wept and Hermione laughed.

"In a year or two. Let's work on closing this case first." Spencer nodded. He was glad that she hadn't said yes, as he did not know yet if it had been a real offer, or not.

There was a cough and the two looked up from the floor to see Hotch standing in the doorway.

"We're downstairs." He said simply and waited for the two to stand. Hermione rushed past him and down the stairs, but he put a hand on Spencer's shoulder to pause the younger man.

"It can't be easy, being rejected by the one that you love." Hotch began, and Spencer, eyes still red rimmed from crying shook his head.

"I'm not sure if it was a real offer, Hotch. We were caught up in the moment." Hotch gave him a questioning look. "Hotch, she remembers the attack. She was telling me everything. And," Spencer paused, "I couldn't take it. I guess there's a reason why you aren't supposed to work on the cases of loved ones."

Hotch nodded and they began to descend the stairs. "That being said, rejection isn't easy."

Spencer stopped him with a voice that Hotch wasn't sure he'd ever heard Spencer use. "I will marry her, Hotch. Even if we have to live a thousand miles apart. I'll find a way to make it work. But I know that I will have that woman as my wife."

Spencer left his unit chief there and Hotch was standing on the landing in shock. Jane had changed Reid in a way that he could not even comprehend. Something made him stop for a second and head back up to the attic. They had been seated in a very peculiar position and before the wedding proposal; Hotch had not heard anything being said.

He entered the attic and his eyes swept around until they rested on a stone basin with oddly swirling liquid. Against his better judgment, Hotch crouched and picked up the bowl. Instantly he was swept inside of a memory.

_**Greek Death**_

Derek clapped Reid on the shoulder as the man touched down into the hallway by the living room and steered him into the space where the rest of the team, minus Hotch was waiting. Jane had gone to the kitchen to get some refreshments and Derek could not stop himself from poking fun at his younger friend and colleague.

"Did that phone call interrupt something, pretty boy?" He asked with a tease and watched Reid's face light up with embarrassment.

"Come off it, Morgan, leave him alone. It's not like they were having sex or anything." Prentiss called to him from the couch where she sat next to JJ and Garcia, having brought her along for her technical expertise.

Spencer's blush, if it could, deepened and he could not stop himself from staring at the floor.

"What?" Garcia asked in a scandalized but proud tone.

Derek, shocked to say the least, clapped Spencer heartily on the back. "I never knew you had it in you."

When Hermione entered the room Derek gave her a slow clap and a look that screamed 'I know what you did'. Her face turned an unimaginable shade of red and Derek came over and shook her hand dramatically.

"I humbly thank you for deflowering our resident genius." Hermione stared at this man in shock of his audacity.

"I." She started and then her mouth continued to open and close but no sound came out.

Spencer came to her rescue. "You should hardly be surprised, Morgan. She and I have been living together for quite some time."

"Let's not forget what you two did in that classroom." Prentiss could not help but give her two cents. Normally, she would not have gotten involved. If it had been anyone's sex life but Reid's she wouldn't have cared. But the thought of him being in a sexual relationship made her want to laugh as though he was in junior high.

The team continued to poke light fun before settling into a reality easy conversation. JJ followed Spencer into the kitchen and cornered him as he set the kettle to boil. "Did you want to?" She asked protectively.

Spencer looked at her, JJ had always been a special part to the team for him. He looked at her and felt compelled to be honest. "In all honesty, it happened by accident. We were there, and then it just happened. I." He paused. "I had no intention, but I do not regret what happened."

He paused and reviewed the events glowing with pride, even if he was the only person who knew why. A sudden thought stopped him and he rapidly excused himself. Taking Hermione aside he locked them both in her first floor bathroom, much to the chagrin of his colleagues.

Hermione smiled at him in appreciation and kissed his neck lazily. A mark of her love and devotion was sticking out just above his collar.

"Hermione." He groaned as her hands snuck around his waist. Once he had tasted her, taken her once, he wanted her again. His thoughts sobered and when he repeated his name he sounded much more firm. "Hermione, stop." Hermione made a disappointed sound, but otherwise didn't stop her movements. In fact she reach down and groped him in his private place.

"Why?"

"Hermione." Spencer groaned before grounding out. "Did you use any form of protection earlier?"

Hermione's movements abruptly halted as she ran through the series of events. As far as accidental sex went, that was exactly how their encounter had occurred. She was not on any kind of pill or birth control.

"No." She whispered and then pulled back. "I doubt that anything will occur of it."

"You're sure?" Spencer asked.

Hermione nodded. "I'll even go and take the morning after pill, if that will help you."

Spencer shook his head and gripped her arms. "Whatever comes of this, I was it to be an us decision."

"So, you don't want me to take it?" She asked.

Spencer shook his head. "Yes, no."

"We're no where near ready for a child." She reminded him and leaned her head onto his chest.

Spencer sighed. "Of course. I was just."

"Absolutely freaking out." Hermione finished with a smile.

Spencer nodded. "Yes, something like that."

"So, the pill?" Hermione questioned and Spencer nodded.

"Yes, please once we can find a quiet moment, we should purchase one and have you take it." Hermione nodded in consensus and was surprised when the bathroom door was ripped open and Hotch forced himself in.

"We need to talk."

What did you think? Loved it? Hated it? Please give me some feedback. I think I surprised even myself with this chapter, and I kept the sexual encounter virtually graphicless. I am brushing the line of this website's clauses so I hope that you enjoyed what I could put out for you. And for those who didn't read it, rock on. I always feel so embarrassed when I write these things. Anywho. Please, please, please review. I am starting a new job in a new state, in a new city, over a thousand miles away from my family. I could use the comfort.

Cheers,

iBless!


	14. A Confrontation

**Another long chapter for my loyal readers! We are closing in on the end, and as of right now I have no inclination to create a sequel. Depending on how things turn out via my writing, I am foreseeing anywhere between two and three more chapters, including epilogue. It has been truly been a pleasure, writing this story for two years, however all good things must come to an and. Thank you all for those who have been following from the beginning. I have gone through so many changes in my life since this started, and I believe that this has been reflected in my writing. I ended my engagement to my fiance because of his abuse and violence, I graduate with an undergraduate degree, I got offered a place in a top notch graduate program and now I am living in Atlanta working at an art school and wondering about what will come next. Please check out my other stories, and I also have a fictionpress account as well as a blog if you would like to follow those. The blog is MadHatterandTea on wordpress.**

**Well, enjoy and I tip my hat to you all, for without you my writing would be meaningless.**

* * *

Hotch wasn't exactly sure what he was seeing or more importantly what he was experiencing. He was pulled into the bowl and a brief self-analysis seemed to confirm that he was not having a psychotic break. That fact solidified that what he was seeing, was real.

He was in a bathroom, an old an expensive looking bathroom. It had marble floors and old fixtures that were kept of nicely. A series of stalls lined one of the walls, and the lack of urinals suggested that this was a girl's restroom. Sniffling caught his attention and Hotch moved towards one of the stalls cautiously. He reached for his gun and slowly released it into his hand. You never knew what you would find in these situations.

Putting up a hand to push the door open, Hotch found that he, instead, went through the door and into the stall of a tiny girl with a huge mop of mousy brown hair. She was wearing some kind of odd school uniform and was crying in earnest.

"Are you alright?" Hotch asked cautiously as he leaned down towards her. The supervisory special agent's hand went through her shoulder this time and the girl made no indication that she knew he was there.

Hastily and with fear, Hotchner backed out of the stall and looked around with feverish fear. "Hello?" He called wishing for any answer at all. "Is anyone there?"

There was a biological sound coming from the hall. He doubted that it was human, but Hotch also could not place the source, he had never heard it before. At once the doors to the washing chambers opened and Hotch's heart stopped short at the sight of what he could only fanatically describe as a troll.

It attacked the girl several times, and Hotch was powerless to stop the attack. The girl screamed and at once two boys entered the bathroom ready to do battle with the beast.

"Hermione!" Hotch's head whipped around to star first at the two boys and then at the girl. There was only one person that he knew with such a name. A closer look discerned the fact that the young girl as indeed Reid's partner.

Hotch grabbed his head in confusion and wished for this to end. The scene changed rapidly and he once again seemed to find himself in a memory.

"Well, isn't it Scarhead and his little friend the Weasel, and the Mudblood." A boy, blond hair, slight build. Hotch noticed the clear signs of wealth, and upon closer observation, abuse. Some children, when abused, turn to idolizing their attacker, in order to make the pain and experiences more bearable. As the conversation progressed Hotch grew firmer in his belief that the child was putting up a brave front. Still, it his words were cruel.

"Take it back, Malfoy." It was Hermione and she whipped out something? A wand? It must be, and a frown tugged at Hotch's lips. She put the wand away eventually and settled for decking the boy.

Hotch willed the scene to change, much as he had the last time, but with more control. This scene was vastly different. It was Hermione being tortured on the floor of an esteemed and glowing mansion. Hotch could recognize old power and wealth when he saw it. Hermione's arm was being carved into by a mad women. Taking a step closer, Hotch's stomach began to rot. It read 'Mudblood'.

Stumbling back he again willed the scene to change. He saw scene after scene, one such one where Hermione killed her previous attacker.

Hermione sat at a bar with friends when a circle of light first appeared on her ankle, then again on her thigh, before finally resting close to her hands. She glanced up discretely and Hotch looked with her to see, in his surprise, that it was Spencer flashing a pocket mirror.

So, he had finally reached close to the present? Through watching the images, Hotch surmised that these were memories. He watched their beginning actions and turned around to look through the bar, feeling awkward at watching their private moment. Something or rather, someone caught his eye. In the back corner of the bar, Evan sat nursing a small glass of hard liquor. He was watching the two seated at the bar with unadulterated hatred and lust.

When Hermione got up to leave, Evan quickly followed her. He had closed the tab already, Hotch concluded. Which meant that Evan had always intended on following Hermione out of the bar. Hotch followed behind the two and watched as Evan got waylaid by two female coeds. Hotch walked a bit further and watch Hermione disappear with a snap that sounded like a car backfiring- or even a gunshot. Evan turned up a few minutes later and cursed. The young man lost his composure and punched the brick wall of the building.

"I will have her." He murmured darkly before heading back into the bar. Hotch followed him and watched. He felt sick to his stomach as Evan now turned his focus to Reid. It was only when one of the team came over and collected Reid for the night that Hotch felt better. Reid probably had no clue; nobody had any clue, how close the young genius had come to his own demise.

Evan had fooled all of them for so long. That fact alone made Hotch angry. He had felt for the youth, his sister had been murdered and now people in his community were being attacked. He seemed helpless. The next memory had Hermione sitting in her office. She was sitting at her desk and Hotch wandered over. Hermione was tracing a finger along a line of text in a foreign language, Ancient Greek, if he wasn't mistake, and then she would stop and reference it with another book in the same language. This continued for a while until she made a frustrated noise.

She stood from her desk and tugged down her skirt before smoothing down her shirt. It was a golden saffron colour and Hotch was immediately struck as to what this memory was leading up to. He immediately felt uncomfortable, but could not stop watching as she went over to her bookcase and reach for a book.

She had been struggling for some time before Hotch's breath stilled in his chest as Reid entered the room. The young profiler didn't hesitate before immediately going over to help. Their bodies pressed together for a moment, and only a fool would not see the physical and mental reaction. Reid stepped back as though someone had hit him and held out the book for the young lady. Hermione slowly turned around to face him, she looked small- like a cornered animal. Hotch noted how her hands pressed behind her to the bookshelf, needing something to hold on to.

Hotch, from watching all the memories knew a great deal about Hermione. He knew that she had suffered greatly at the hands of romance. Her feelings emotions had been played with for well over a decade by a man who just used her in order to get his rocks off. He knew that she was scared, just as he knew that Reid was the perfect person for her.

Reid dropped the book onto a chair and took a step towards Hermione once, twice before reaching forward hesitantly and cupping the flushed face. Without further thought Reid leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Hermione's lips. The moment was sweet until Reid had the most unReidlike response.

Try as he might, Hotch could not look away Reid captured her lips again and again, growing more and more bold and needy. Passionate. They were pulling and tugging at each other's clothing as though a dam had been opened. And, in a way, it had been.

Hotch finally was able glance away and when he did his heart all but stopped beating in his chest. There in the doorway, Hotch met the unseeing, but murderous gaze of Evan. He looked at the couple and took a step towards them. He seemed to think better of the idea and Hotch let a breath go. Reid still had his gun on him, and Hermione, he now knew, was fully capable of protecting herself.

Evan slipped away as quietly as he could, not that the couple noticed in the least, and Hotch moved to stand in the doorway so he could watch the couple and their killer. Evan slammed a door to a classroom shut before running through another set of doors and most likely down the flight of stairs that Hotch knew were there. The couple jumped apart.

They stepped back from each other in silence and stared. Hotch took in mutually bruised lips, mussed clothing, and though they didn't know it- glowing luck for their lives. Reid, he noted, had more social confidence at that moment than he would usually have seen in the doctor. Their attraction, even at the beginning of their relationship was at an incredible level. He could see why Reid would want to marry her after three short months.

"That was." Hermione started, and Hotch could see how she was struggling with herself, her past, and the current situation.

"Intense." Reid finished.

They began to help each other straighten their appearance and the whole in Hotch's chest left by Haley's death squeezed painfully. Their actions were so domestic; frankly he was envious of them.

She led him on a tour of the building, which ended with a trip and a fall into an alcove at the bottom of a tiered classroom. Hotch knew what was coming the incident with the unsub, what he had forgotten was the sexual encounter they all knew had happened. He was reminded when the two gave into their sexual urges and began to attack each other in earnest.

Hotch was once again drawn into watching them participate in truly uncharacteristic behavior. He knew that they were sexually active with each other, but watching it occur when they first met made them seem like they began their relationship with a one-night stand. As Reid ejaculated into his pants, Hotch felt truly bad for the younger man. His obvious distress and shame was crippling.

Hermione soothed him in what some would consider a mothering manner, however Hotch perceived it differently. She held no judgment for his coworker, only understanding. If Haley had been half as understanding at any part of their relationship, maybe she wouldn't have cheated and maybe they would have never divorced, maybe she would still be alive.

His eyebrows shot into his hairline when Reid not only offered to reciprocate the sexual favour, but also moved to do so. That took an incredible amount of social courage, and Hotch silently, awkwardly, commended the doctor. This was truly a moment for his psychosocial development, especially after the personal conflict and crisis that was premature ejaculation.

They began slowly, Reid obviously nervous but willing and Hotch was preparing to fast-forward the memory when the door burst open and Evan appeared, hidden as he was in his disguise and dragging a body.

It was then that Hotch had a horrible and sick realization. Evan had followed them, or at least knew where the two were. He killed that girl and placed it there as a sign that he disapproved of their relationship. The former prosecutor watched the exchanged and followed Hermione, as it was her memory, as she chased down the killer.

That means that the necklace that was on the girl was meant for Reid. This had been a direct attempt on Reid's life. It was no accident. Evan knew that Reid would have to stay with the body because of the evidence chain in command; he would know that from his studies in politics and political studies. He was evening focusing in the judicial system. He was banking on Hermione chasing him, in order to give Reid the opportunity to find the necklace and die. It was risky, but effective.

Hotch and Hermione had caught up with Evan and she commanded in to stop much in a way that he would have. They spoke and Hotch could see that Hermione was struggling with the situation. When Evan used the word 'slut' to describe the victim, he knew that the student was truly referring to Hermione and her sexual encounters with Reid.

Hermione ran back to Reid her fear and panic plain to see. Hotch watched as Hermione managed to heal Reid as her composure broke and she began to sob. It was then that Hotch came face to face with his past self and the memory began to fade away. The next scene showed Hermione racing away from the Memorial Union.

This was it; this was when she was attacked. Hotched watched the whole scene feeling sick to his stomach. He had no idea how she had survived, it looked like she hadn't until her hand had thrust itself up from under her snowy grave. Hotch pushed forward, trying to see more memories, however it seemed as though there were no more. There had only been three since meeting Reid: their first meeting, their first sexual encounter, and then finally her attack. This had been what they had been watching; this was why the two had been crying.

The bowl dropping from Hotch's numb fingers and he felt his face. It was covered in a cold sweat and his found himself shivering. All this time, Hermione had been hiding a great secret. He understood. One of the memories mentioned a 'Statute of Secrecy' that all magical people were required to follow. He wasn't a fool. She was still a victim.

Now, more than ever he saw how close to death she had come, not only her- but Reid as well. Evan had been stalking them. The two had come so close to death it was astonishing. Evan had been there, like a dark shadowy figure in the corner or just beyond the window.

Hotch took a moment compose himself before rushing down the stairs. Coming into the living room he glanced around at his coworkers who were, seemingly making fun of Reid losing his virginity to Hermione.

"Where are they?" He asked them. He needed to speak to them. The magic non-withstanding, Reid's theory had been correct and they were in more danger than the two could have ever known. He was directed to the bathroom off the kitchen and Hotch wasted no time opening the door and shoving himself inside.

"We need to talk."

"Hotch." Reid's voice was scandalized, and on some level Hotch couldn't blame him. The two had obviously been involved in an important conversation and now Hotch was crushed into them in the tiny sink and toilet bathroom.

"No, Reid." He glanced at Hermione. "It is Evan."

The two nodded. "We know."

"No, you don't." He said and Reid fixed him with a look.

"Why are we talking about this in a bathroom, and not with the team?"

Hotch looked directly at Hermione. "Because Hermione doesn't want the team to know about her magic. Am I right?"

Hermione studied her lover's boss. He could have gone about this conversation in many different ways; he could have exposed her or attacked her. Instead, he was here just doing his job, and further protecting her secret. She gave him a nod of thanks; it was all she could do at this point.

"What?" On the other hand Reid was a squawking mess. "How do you know? How did you find out?"

Hotch looked sheepish for a second before admitting. "I went back up to the attic and got sucked into some kind of liquid in a bowl."

"My pensieve." Hermione answered calmly and placed a hand on Reid's bicep in an attempt to cool his temper. "And you saw?"

"All of them?" Hotch answered with an uncharacteristic question. Hermione blushed prettily, there had been memories of her sexual encounters with there, from Ron and the other men she had been involved with over the years- with Spencer.

"And?" Hermione prompted as she pushed away her embarrassment.

"You're life is respectable." Hotch began slowly. "Difficult. Impressive." Hermione nodded and thanked him for the compliment. "But, I also noticed something." He glanced at Reid. "Did you ever watch the memories that you put in the Pensieve? The ones involving Reid?"

Hermione shook her head. "I haven't used it much since meeting Spencer. Only the first few days, or so."

Hotch fixed them both with a look that made each throat constrict with worry. "Evan was there. He was at the bar when you first met." He squared a look at Hermione. "He tried to follow you to your car, but you disappeared before he could get to you. He went back in the bar to get Reid, but we took him home in a group." Hermione's hand left Reid's bicep trailed down the arm until their two hands clasped tightly at this unsettling news.

"He was there again when you two," a blush stained Hotch's cheeks. "When you two were sexually occupied in your office. He was the one who slammed the door in the hallway." Hotch stared down at his hands, adding up the facts. "He killed that girl to ruin your evening, it was a trap to kill Reid. I don't know for certain, but I am fairly sure that Evan put the necklace on the girl in order to assassinate Reid."

Reid and Hotch locked eyes. "He knew that you would have to stay with the body. He was counting on it."

"I'm willing to bet that he's been there other times. Following us." Hermione murmured thinking. They didn't need more evidence, what they needed was to find Evan and stop him.

The three exited the bathroom and Hermione halted as she felt a hand on her arm. Her eyes met the surprisingly warm black orbs of Hotch. "I won't tell them." He murmured to her, reassuringly.

Hermione nodded. "I know, and you know why I have to hide who I am."

Hotch nodded and then glanced at Reid. "I believe that I already know the answer to this, but does Reid know?"

"Of course." Hermione answered. They shared another look before heading back into the living room. The team discussed the case overall, leaving the penseive out of the conversation. Hermione spent her time pouring over maps of the campus, and thinking before something clicked. She glanced at the clock. It was close to eleven at night.

"Bearfest." She murmured, still unsure of her thoughts. The scenario ran over and over in her brain before she believed completely in her analysis. She left the kitchen where she had been working in independent silence and entered the large think tank that was the BAU.

"Bearfest." Hermione and Reid said once they made eye contact. The rest of the group mad a questioning noise.

"Bearfest is a very important campus fundraising event. It is like Relay for Life, but in dance form." The group nodded. "And it is happening right now?"

Hermione gave a confirmation and in a flurry of movement the team went for the vehicles. Hermione joined them, though she had a different mission. While the BAU went for their killer, Hermione's job was to search out the body that was most likely already in place. The final showdown had begun, and they were not going to let Evan go.

The team arrived along with several sets of police officers to the Field House on campus. It was the older school gymnasium that now housed the basketball team, the swim and diving team, as well as track and field. It was the place where they had found the first victim, and it would be the place where they found the last.

GreekDeath

The team and the police officers had gone off into the shadows of the building and surrounding buildings, but that was not Hermione's plan. Instead, she dressed herself in the event's t-shirt and skinny jeans with a large orange UMaine baseball helmet. She was meant to be seen, her task was to draw attention and hopefully find the body.

This had been her idea: Bearfest was important to the community and Evan was seeking to destroy the event. By discovering the body early and preventing the disruption they would prevent Evan from getting what he craved the most: attention and fear.

She walked into the large field house and looked around. One large side was dedicated to a stage with a DJ and a dance floor. Bearfest was a dancing fundraiser. The object was to dance all night, and if you wanted to sit down you had to pay money for each minute. Everyone, however, was in good spirits and Hermione felt hers being lifted by the joy felt in the air. Yes, she would find the body.

She made her way through the crowd, smiling and greeting those who knew her until she came to the staging unit for the DJ. She was checking underneath the stage when a hand appeared in her vision.

"Come on!" Yelled the DJ and the crowd began chanting until Hermione relented and joined him on stage. The audience of University of Maine students went wild and Hermione started to dance on stage, using her turns and movements as an excuse to get a view of the room from a high vantage point. In the back of the room, Hermione noted a series of covered tables with things hidden beneath the white sheets. That would be the perfect place.

The song ended and Hermione jumped off stage to thunderous applause. Well, she was there to cause a distraction, and a distraction she had caused. Hermione spotted Evan in the crowd and talked into the earpiece and monitor that the BAU had fitted her with.

"He's here- I just saw him."

"Where?" Came Hotch's cool and collected voice. It helped Hermione keep her head; though she was a veteran at this- it was different this time. She felt uneasy very, very, uneasy and nothing could shake that feeling. Her eyes scanned the crowd again and Hermione swore softly.

"I lost him, Hotch." Her tone of voice screamed frustration.

Hotch was there again, ever cool headed and supportive. "It's all right. Keep an eye out, at least we know we're in the right place."

Hermione nodded, though she knew that he couldn't see her and began to weave her way through the crowd. She had just about reached the back table when a hand clamped down on her shoulder. She reacted before she thought about the situation.

The hand grabbing her was assaulted in return and Hermione twisted it up and away from her, forcing the person to turn with the movement or dislocate the arm. Once she turned and got a good look at her attacker Hermione released the arm with a strangled sound of shock and apology.

Tank massaged his hand and arm looking at her with a little fear, but also with definite respect. "I never knew you could do that." He told her and he looked down at himself, "especially to someone my size."

Hermione blushed. "Thank you for the compliment, I'm just sorry that it happened."

Tank shrugged. "I shouldn't have touched you. I just had been trying to get your attention, but I don't think you could hear me from over the music."

Hermione nodded as though that had been the reason she couldn't hear him. In reality she had been focusing on her mission to the point where she had heard nothing else. A rookie mistake.

"What are you doing back here?" He asked her curiously and Hermione's heart melted despite her stress at his large and cuddly appearance.

"I wanted to check out what was under these sheets." Hermione gestured to the five long tables that were covered by white sheets. There were obviously various items under the linens, judging by the bulges and recedes in the fabric.

"The prizes?" Tank questioned, looking between her and the tables.

Hermione nodded. "I am just making sure that nobody slipped anything nasty under there for us to find later."

Tank nodded solemnly. "Like a prank. I got you. Would you like help?"

A shake of the head dismissed the offer. "It will only take me a minute. You, though, have a fundraiser to continue dancing for."

Tank groaned. "But my feet hurt. Marathons like these are not meant for guys with my size."

With a grin, Hermione patted him on the shoulder while simultaneously giving the college student a shove. "Then work on that, so that next year you won't be so tired. Start now."

Tank rolled his eyes. "Slave driver." He ambled back off to the crowd, nonetheless, and Hermione held her breath. If a body was under these sheets, than she had just avoided a major issue.

Taking advantage of her authority, Hermione went through and checked under the sheets. "It doesn't make any sense." Hermione wondered to herself. There was nothing under the sheets, nothing at all that would be part of a body.

With a groan Hermione leaned her head back on her neck and cracked the appendage. She did it a second time on the other side and something made her pause. Tilting her head back up, Hermione's eyes swept over the ceiling. "Of course." She murmured.

It all made sense now, the body would be on the catwalk, ready to be pushed into the crowd.

Wasting no time, Hermione walked briskly, but otherwise inconspicuously over to a ladder leading up into a second deck of storage and climbed up into the loft. From there she climbed another ladder until she came up along side a platform that began the catwalk. Sticking out a trainer clad foot, Hermione stepped cautiously onto the suspended bridge, painfully aware of the drop she would suffer if she fell, and the crowd of students below.

As a precaution, Hermione removed her wand from her wand holster as she crept along. A sudden sound startled her and Hermione wavered in her footing. Hands grasped the guardrail and the world swam because of her fear of falling. The sound had come from a larger square storage platform. Stepping cautiously, Hermione came up to the platform and began to scan around the area that was filled with boxes and large black bags for tents. There! Hermione rushed over and stuck her wand into her waistband. It wasn't, to her surprise, a body! The girl was alive and frightened.

Looking closely, Hermione identified the girl as Marta Mrowetz, an international graduate student that was in Hermione's department. They looked very similar, earily so and that caused Hermione to pause. Raising a soft and gentle hand, Hermione grazed it through the girl's hair. It had been treated; she surmised and removed the gage from the girl's mouth to confirm.

"Behind you!" She gasped once the gag was removed and Hermione dove to the side as a knife sunk into the spot where Hermione had been kneeling. The knife also sunk deeply into Marta's thigh. The sheer volume of the music drowned her wail out and Hermione turned around to stare at Evan.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked, stalling for time. She needed a plan to get Evan secured, and Marta safe. She glanced down at the abused grad student and noticed with a sick feeling that there was a noose already attached to the girl's neck. It was a change in MO. That could only mean one thing, this was the final kill and Evan wasn't planning on living through it.

"You never loved me. Always everyone else but me." Evan and the witch began to circle each other.

"I would never have a relationship with a student." Hermione replied, trying to keep him talking. She wished that she could find a way to activate her com and alert the team, however he would see that movement.

"Lies!" Evan cried. "I know you were with Regi."

Hermione shook her head. "I would never do that. He and I never had anything but a platonic student/teacher relationship."

"How did you survive?" Evan finally asked her.

Hermione shrugged. "I guess it just wasn't my time. It is yours, though." Evan lunged at her and Hermione once again dove out of the way. She grabbed for her wand, however she couldn't maintain her momentum and fell heavily, twisting her ankle. Evan was already gone running and Hermione had a choice: she could either attempt to follow him herself, or she could stay with Marta, as the girl was severely injured. It took no contest.

"I just had a confrontation with Evan." Hermione called into her com.

"Are you hurt?" Hotch's commanding voice asked, and she was relieved that it wasn't Spencer answering. She could have never handled it if he had.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm a little beat up, however I found the girl that Evan was going to kill. She's alive, however she's very injured. I need to stay with her until help can arrive. Evan has exited the catwalk area and is now going through the building from the top down.

"Got it." Came Hotch's replied and he informed her that paramedics were on the way.

Hermione sat back and waited. This was the part of the missions that she always hated, there were times where all she could do was sit and wait and pray that people were where they were supposed to be, and that everything would turn out fine.

A sound on the catwalk made Hermione glance up and she saw paramedics approaching from side that started on the third floor of the building. Looking down through the grates she saw that no student was noticing the events occurring above. Good. It was all over except for the capture, but if that was so, why did she feel so wrong?

GDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGDGD

They had chased Evan through the various parts of the gym and they had finally cornered him, so to speak. They were in the makeshift lazer-tag arena that had been put up in the basketball court. Each member of the team had taken a different maze entrance and Spencer kept his gun up as he rounded a corner.

When he had heard over his com that Hermione had been injured, his heart started to beat uncomfortably fast. Even the thought of her being in danger brought cold sweats to his body. Spencer rounded another corner and saw no one.

A crackling of the intercom brought Spencer's attention to his shoulder. "I got him! I got him!" Morgan was yelling and then told the team of his whereabouts. Spencer lowered his gun in relief. It was over finally it was over. There was a sound behind him and Spencer turned to greet whoever it was and immediately felt a painful impact. He didn't have a chance to think before the roar in his ears took over and he was out.

Spencer awoke to found himself chained and bent over what must have been a stone table. He felt horrible and his teeth, he swept his tongue over the enabled pieces, they had at least half a day's worth of bacterial growth on them. This could only have meant that he had been captured. But by who?

The question was soon answered by the sound of a door opening and closing. Heavy footsteps mingled with a slight limp resounded on the echoing walls and floors. The person finally knelt in front of Spencer and he fought the urge to look away.

The figure before him was grotesque to say the least. Scars mingled the body, an eye was missing and the pocket where it once resided was filled with knotted scar tissue. He was dirty, Spencer noted, as though it had been a long time since the man's last shower. He reeked something awful and the young profiler sincerely wished that he could cover his nose.

A hand missing bits of the ends of his fingers brushed down Spencer's cheek. "Hello there."

Despite his appearance the man's voice was soft and mellow, though Spencer would never describe it as gentle. Almost suave, like a clever vaudeville villain.

"Hello." Spencer answered unsure of how to proceed. He needed more information before he could figure out how to exactly handle the situation.

"You're prettier than her last boyfriend." The man murmured, his hand now running through Spencer's hair.

"Who?" Spencer asked feigning ignorance.

A tight smile drew over the man's features making him appear, if possible, more hideous.

"Hermione." He paused. "Or Jane, whatever she's been calling herself recently. I will always know her as 'Mudblood' though."

"Don't call her that!" Spencer raised his voice in anger and the smile bloomed to show teeth. White, straight, teeth that were the only part of this man to be taken care of.

"I'm only calling her what she is. She's a mudblood, and that's all she'll ever be. Dating you, truly becoming even more of a traitor to all of the wizarding world. Pathetic."

Spencer chose to stay silent. Men like this one tended to monologue, and he could use that information to his advantage.

"I'll admit, I didn't know that she was tracking me at first, however, when murders started happening on her campus, I found her. Her scent, once I thought to look for it, was easily discernable. And really, it was fitting for her to come after me, after I tore her parents to pieces."

Spencer's blood ran cold. That was a story he had not heard.

"Oh, yes. Judging by your face your little girlfriend didn't tell you that she sacrificed her own parents for her friends. Running and letting me soak in their blood. If her blood wasn't so dirty I would commend her for her darkness. Her undeniable ability to commit evil."

The man continued to speak until he patted Spencer on the head and moved to exit the room.

"Wait!" Spencer called and he heard the man stop moving. "What is your name?"

There was a moment's pause before the man answered, "Greyback."

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**I hope that you enjoyed it, and I hope that I surprised you!**

**Cheers,**

**iBless!**


	15. A Battle

**Last chapter before the epilogue! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter, I believe it is once again packed full of surprises. I can't believe that the journey is over! Ah! Wow. Well, I hope that you all will come back and read it over and over again (and review on multiple chapters that you haven't already reviewed on, or do it without signing it). You all were wonderful, and it was a true pleasure. And here it goes.**

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Hermione was gathered and taken to the Multipurpose Room in the Union. Seated there in the room, she was happy, eager, and excited to be sitting here, knowing that the trial was over. Evan had been captured. She had returned her com and the other FBI issued equipment before being swept back to the student union. When an hour had passed and still the team hadn't shown up, she began to worry.

Two hours, and there was still no sign of Spencer and his friends. When another half hour passed, Hermione thought back to that haunting feeling that had been following her all day. She should have listened to her intuition, and now something was wrong. She stood and made her way towards the door and it opened before she was able to get there. The team filed in, not happy. There was an overwhelming and oppressing feeling of depression, anger, and worry.

She studied each face in the group and counted until she realized who was missing. She should have honed in on that from the beginning, she was a horrible girlfriend.

"Spencer?" She asked so many things just by mentioning his name.

"Gone." Hotch replied while releasing his tie from its tight knot. "Either Evan had an accomplice or there is another unsub that we don't know about."

Hermione's heart stopped. She didn't need any evidence, it was as though Greyback was there shouting in her ear. He had Spencer, and he took him specifically to torture Hermione.

"I." She started to say and stopped herself. What could she say to these people? She moved to exit, however JJ grabbed her by the arm and steered her back to a chair.

"You really shouldn't be alone right now."

Hermione fought her. "No, I have to find Spencer."

"We will, don't you worry."

"No, you don't understand." Hermione tried to talk to the team several times, however they kept shutting her down. They explained that what she was feeling was shock and that it would pass, and that she should do nothing rash right now.

It was two hour later, nearly six in the morning, when they brought Hermione back to her home. Morgan would be sleeping on her couch and a marked car would be standing guard outside of the house, for her protection. Hermione had protested at the precaution and Rossi replied that Reid would never forgive them if anything were to happen to her.

Before they left she and Hotch had a moment in her kitchen.

"Hermione." He began.

"I can find him." Hermione replied, meeting his eyes. If he had seen her memories, he should know what she was capable of.

"We don't know anything at the moment. Please, just stay put." Hotch put up his hand when she moved to protest. "The situation is still dangerous, and while you are incredibly capable, this is still and FBI investigation."

She glared at him before nodding. He placed what would seem like a comforting hand on her shoulder before nodding in return and exiting. She bid Morgan goodnight before going upstairs. There was only one thing to do now: go after Greyback and finish her mission, she had to save Spencer- even if it cost her, her life.

She slept for an hour and ate something before getting ready to move. Plenty of good people died when they weren't at their best, and this mission could cost no mistakes. She couldn't call on Harry, or any of the others, they would never understand. She loved Harry, truly, however he was different from when they were kids. He looked at the world now as though he was always right and all knowing. In a way he became almost like Dumbledore, though she would never tell him that.

When she got to her living room she gazed around the corner and saw Morgan asleep on the couch. Casting a quick silencing spell on her shoes and clothes, Hermione left the house, closing the door silently behind her.

She was dressed for battle, her heavy unspeakable robes weighed down her figure, and that mimicked the weighed down feeling of her heart. She had caused this, she knew that Greyback was torturing Spencer, in order to hurt Hermione. She would stop this. Unlocking her car, Hermione got in and was immediately surprised by her passenger door opening and Morgan getting in.

"You're not going anywhere without me, Mama."

She stared at him and silently raised her wand a fraction to point at the agent. In a flash he had caught her hand in his. "I don't know what you were just planning, however I suggest you forget it." In a softer tone, Morgan spoke and when he looked at her, their eyes met. "Reid's my friend. I know Hotch thinks that this has something to do with Evan, but I saw your face. You know."

Hermione looked away and lowered her wand. "I do." She replied finally. There was nothing that she could say against his accusations, further she was tired of lying to these people. If they both worked for the government, she should be able to speak to them. The things that the BAU and her department could do if they worked together. She took a chance, if the magical world crucified her for it- so be it. Spencer was in danger.

"I'm not retired, like I told you all."

Morgan nodded his head, "I'm listening."

"I've been deep undercover for a little over five years now. Tracking a former terrorist turned sexual sadist and child killer."

Morgan winced, but didn't interrupt. "He and I have a personal score to settle. That isn't new; anyone from my agency has a score to settle with him. Mine is a little more personal- he killed my parents, some of my friends. And, now he has Spencer." The hand that gripped the steering wheel clenched harshly, the leather unyielding under her hand. "Him taking Spencer was no mistake, he did it to taunt me. He must have found out that I was here because of the investigation into Evan."

"And now he's using Reid as bait." Hermione shrugged at Morgan's statement. She tried to ignore how the words cut into her, Spencer was taken and it was all her fault. She turned her head and stare straight ahead out the windshield and down her immaculately kept driveway. "How does he think you'll be able to find them?"

Hermione paused, weighing her options. In for a knut, in for a sickle, she supposed. "What you're going to see will surprise you and possibly frighten you. There's a whole group of people who you don't know about, who have powers that you couldn't imagine."

"Are we talking X-Men?" Morgan asked, sounding skeptical. Hermione shot him a look out of the corner of her eye. He gazed at her evenly, his eyes held no judgment.

"More like Merlin." She explained and took the concealing spell off of her wrist and dangling from it was a thin golden chain and a locket.

"Oh." Morgan whispered quietly, unsure of what else to say, and unable to say anything. He was staring at the sudden appearance of the jewelry.

Reaching forward, Hermione opened the locket. In it contained a small portrait of Spencer, a lock of his hair, and a piece of paper that contained a circle of blood.

"Is that his blood?" Morgan asked, horrified.

Hermione nodded. "All taken willingly." She moved a hand to shush him and then concentrated on the magical focus. This would only work because of her and Spencer's connection their soul mate match. Had she tried to do this with anyone else, it would never work.

Morgan watched as Hermione's skin filled with a silver glow. When she opened her eyes, they glowed white and a stark shiver ran through his body. This was not natural. If he was a god fearing man, which he wasn't, he would say that this was the work of the devil. Hermione's voice croaked a word that he didn't understand and the light vanished from in the car.

Putting the car into drive, Hermione eased out of the driveway and without hesitating, she took a right. When Morgan asked how she knew where they were going, Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder and at once Morgan could see the silver line of energy that stretched out in front of them. Even when she removed her hand, he was still able to see and it was as though a new part of the world had been exposed to him.

A light flashed out of Morgan's eye, but when he turned to look all he saw was long grass and trees. Shrugging his shoulders, he was seeing things Morgan looked back towards the light that he knew existed. Again! It was there and Morgan whipped his head, hoping to catch whatever it was. Again nothing. It was four or five later that Hermione chuckled.

"I'm afraid your twitching might be my fault." She said humorously.

"Explain?" Morgan asked. He was highly irritated and it felt like his senses were deceiving him.

"You're seeing magic." Hermione explained as they took a turn down a dirt and overgrown road. "I exposed you to a truly powerful sight spell- its bound to have some kind of effect."

"Is this permanent?" Morgan wanted to know. The man felt severely irritated, he didn't ask for this spell to affect him.

The witch shrugged as she drove and Morgan focused on staring at the ornament hanging down form her review mirror- that was illegal, but he didn't mind. It was a small metal gold lion on a red ribbon cord. He continued to watch it and, strangely it began to put him at east.

"I honestly don't know. It depends on how much innate magic you have." Came the truthful answer.

"Innate magic?" Morgan questioned as he shifted in his seat.

"Every living thing has innate magic. That's what you're seeing out of the corner of your eyes. It is the vine that connects everything together, making the world interdependent. If you have strong innate magical ability, there's a chance that this might be permanent." Morgan made a displeased sound and Hermione smiled at his reaction. Leaning over she patted his leg just above the knee. "It wouldn't be that bad. It could be helpful in your line of work. I'm surprised that you haven't come across a magical person or two in your cases. Chances are that you will, and that this could help."

Morgan couldn't deny the truth in what she was saying, but he could ignore her by looking out the window. The car was kicking up dust as they drove further and further into the wilderness. That was the thing about Maine, one moment you can be in civilization and a few minutes later you are in the middle of nowhere. A college friend had once complained that when she lived at home, her home being Machias, Maine, she would become cross when she could barely see her neighbors houses.

Something, he didn't quite know what- or even if it was real made his skin crawl. A few seconds later he felt the same experience. "We're getting closer." Hermione explained.

"I can feel it." Morgan replied, almost not even recognizing that he spoke. He entirely missed the curious look Hermione shot him. When this was all over Hermione decided that she would test Morgan. He seemed to have more of a connection to magic than a regular muggle would. There was every possibility in the world that somewhere along the lines his family had magic. The FBI agent might have just a touch more magic than the average person, enough to feel the occurrences, but not enough to cast spells.

Hermione released pressure off of her gas and eased her car onto the side of the road, feeling every bump as the vehicle crunched over larger rocks and plants. "We'll go on foot from here." Morgan didn't protest, and he even approved of her choice. It was difficult to sneak up on anyone in a car, let alone a car on a dirt road.

Morgan closed the door behind him and relished in the real feeling that the cold metal door gave him. He was beginning to have difficulty differentiating between the real and corporeal world, and these feelings and experiences that came with magic. Instantly, Hermione was by his side with a hand placing comforting weight on his arm.

"It'll get easier." She soothed him and Morgan nodded, a churning feeling in his stomach. Hermione held up her wand- Morgan recognized it as a wand now instead of a gun, he blinked as for a second the image wavered. The witch placed a hand to his forehead and coolness soothed his overworking brain.

"Sh." She soothed again and they held their positions, Morgan needing the comfort and Hermione willing to provide it. It was her fault that his dormant abilities had been awakened. It was her responsibility to see him through this experience. In a way, she was glad that it was Morgan that had volunteered to stay on her couch. This was something that the two could share together.

When Morgan finally felt calm he placed a hand on Hermione's sweater clad shoulder and squeezed in thanks. It wasn't often that he was so caught off guard and normally he would have preferred to sort out his feelings alone. However, there was something about Hermione was addicting. He now understood what had attracted Spencer to her. He was nowhere near sexually attracted to the woman don't get him wrong. However, there was still something there that inspired loyalty and fellowship.

Once upon a time he had offered the witch a truce. In light of the recent situation: his introduction to magic and her utmost willingness to sacrifice herself for Spencer made Morgan feel something different. There was a chance; no there was more than a chance that he could become friends with this woman.

Hermione smiled up at him and Derek smiled back before a serious expression overtook and mirrored their features. She raised her wand. "Ready to get our man back?" She questioned the older man.

Derek held up a fist for her to hit. "You ready to take down your unsub?"

Hermione pounded it. "Born to do it."

They smiled a much different smile than before, this one meant business.

Hermione cast a spell first on herself, and then on Derek and the spell alarmed him. It felt as though an egg was being cracked over his head and then the goo was subsequently sliming and sliding down his body. Apparently it would hide them, though it was not foolproof. She then disguised their scent and muffled their footsteps. Derek took his gun out.

"Let's get ready to party."

The flicker of light that Derek was beginning to associate with being able to see magic clued the agent in on where Hermione was located. He could still see the silver line and a grim line set across his mouth. He would get Spencer out of there. Greyback was Hermione's fight, but he would clear the road for her success.

The silver light led them another three miles east and the dots that represented Hermione stopped. "He has wards up- I need to work on this."

"Can't you just break them?" Derek asked, feeling decidingly odd, talking to seemingly nothing.

He could feel rather than see her head shake, and that gave him the willies. "If I broke them, then he would know instantly. I'm just going to open a window. All wards have them, it's a downfall to the types that he's using."

"Which are?" Derek questioned, needing more information about the world that was slowly being introduced to him.

"He has an alerting spell. It would instantly notify him once a person stepped past the wards. Another is an anti-apparating ward. That means that a person cannot just appear and disappear. Teleport."

"You can do that." That was incredible, and his voice was incredulous

There was a sigh. "I can, and lessons in magic later."

Derek didn't ask any more questions as Hermione got to work on the four or so wards that were present, after describing the final two. There was a mumble of words and Derek could see more of the small pieces of light. When Hermione spoke next he could hear the physical strain that her spell work was causing her.

"Walk forward, two paces to your left." Derek did as requested and as he stepped through the area, he could feel the wards sliding over his skin. Not a moment later Derek felt the vacuum of the wards closing around Hermione.

It was another mile until they reached the small wooden cabin. Silently, Morgan crept up to the window and gazed inside. The floors were made of packed dirt and straw, and he immediately spotted Reid bent over what the FBI agent could only describe as a sacrificial table.

The agent in question looked horrible with cuts and burns littering the body. Derek's blood ran cold at the sight and he followed Hermione's specks into the house.

A second alarm was triggered and their disillusion vanished. Morgan could see Hermione and Hermione could see Morgan. They rushed to the table and with a quick spell; Hermione released Reid from his binds. They levered Reid onto Derek's back. The door burst open and Hermione pressed something into Derek's hands. It was the lion ornament from the car.

"Tell Spencer, I'm sorry." She whispered to him desperately and stepped back before saying another word. Something pulled behind Derek's naval and the cabin vanished. They landed back in Hermione's house and Derek heard two rapid popping noises.

His vision was immediately filled with a red head, the one from the hospital visit, and Harry. The redhead without discussion started to care for Reid while Harry picked up Morgan and deposited the agent on Hermione's couch.

"What happened?"

Hermione dove behind the altar and called out to Fenrir.

"Nice abode you have here."

"I get by." Fenrir replied and Hermione crawled sideways as the side of the table was destroyed by a spell.

"Been healthy?" Hermione asked, stalling as she tried to get to a good firing position.

There was a frustrated sigh. "I would do better with a second eye. I still haven't properly thanked you for that."

Hermione laughed. "No need to thank me, I did you a favor. You were never going to be attractive, I just helped clear up any confusion you might have."

She dove behind a large wooden chair- Fenrir always had a pension for old pureblood relics. Her side burned. He had landed a hit and it bled heavily. The was struck with an idea. Reaching a hand into one of her many pockets she pulled out an item.

Fred and George had paid her a visit right before she went undercover. They had given her plenty of joke items, and she had placed them in the pockets of her robes. The very robes that she was wearing now. It was just crazy enough to work. He could out power her as for as spells went- but she wasn't afraid to use anything at her disposal. With a silent prayer and a hastily cast protego, Hermione stuck out an arm from behind the chair and threw the box.

There was a plopping noise before a loud curse. Score one for Fred and George. Hermione mused silently and jumped out of the hiding place. Her world was a haze of pain, absolute and never ending pain. She screamed.

Fenrir was laughing, she could register that and Hermione fought to crack open an eye. When she finally managed the feat she saw Fenrir over waist deep in the portable swamp. He wouldn't be able to get out of there easily, she just needed to find the strength to take him down.

With a gasp Hermione gripped and then regripped her wand. A push of self-control had her cast the first spell to come to mind. Her torture ended and Fenrir's had just begun. With great difficultly she stood, but was careful not to let up her spell.

Fenrir was gasping, desperately trying to find air as her spell slowly choked the life from the werewolf.

"How does it feel?" She called to him, knowing he couldn't answer. Causing him pain was wonderful. There was no person on Earth that deserved more pain. He had made her choose between saving a heavily, heavily injured Harry and Ron or saving her parents. She let the spell off for a moment, not wanting his life to end too quickly.

Harry had yet to defeat Voldemort and she needed to get them out of there. It had been the hardest decision of her life, but she had only been seventeen! It wasn't fair! She cast the spell again, enjoying his suffering. The only saving grace that her decision gave her was that her parents were already dead- mentally at least. They had been captured by Voldemort months before hand and had been tortured into insanity, despite the Order's best attempts to rescue them.

Their deaths relieved them of the lives that their bodies could continue, but their minds never would. Still, it had been so hard. She hated herself, she hated herself every single day for leaving them. If she hadn't though, Harry and Ron would have died, and Voldemort would never have been defeated.

Spencer's face flashed through her mind and Hermione gasped, her heart wrenching. What was she doing? She ended the spell and stared down at the gasping man before her. She could kill him- should kill him. In the most painful way possible, it was more than he deserved.

But could she really do it? Could she really kill someone in cold blood? Now that her mind wasn't filled with revenge she wasn't sure. A dark and evil part of her, that thirsted to avenge her parents and so many other people- all those children called for blood. Her hand shook as she fought the urge to raise it.

No. While she would forever struggle with her parents death, and her part in it, killing Greyback in cold blood, torturing him to death would in turn torture her so much more. Or would it.

She raised her wand sharply and spoke a spell. She surprised herself, truly, and watched as his body lifted from the muck and came to rest on the floor. She cancelled all of his spells before binding him and making sure that he would stay unconscious. The world swam dangerously and Hermione pressed a hand to her side. When she pulled it back, it was wet and covered in blood- her blood.

Her head swam, and Hermione reached desperately for the chair to steady herself. She missed and the world turned black as she fell.

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**What do you think? Was it great? Bad? Surprising? Its been a pleasure. Just the epilogue left. Give me something good to read!**

**Cheers,**

**iBless!**


	16. An Epilogue

**I kept trying to figure out how to finish this. I still don't know if this was the right way, however I did like it in the end. I hope that you all do as well. I am truly grateful to have been on this journey with you all. I started writing this story years ago and now. It seems like it's always been there, waiting for the next chapter. Well, there is not next chapter- though there may be a sequel focusing on Morgan if you guys are interested. I also tried to align this with a little canon, I wonder if you'll notice it. Blah, this is emotional. I'm going to stop writing before I get all blubbery and break the keyboard with my tears.  
**

** As always. Merry Meet and Merry Part, and Merry Meet Again. May the road rise up to meet you.**

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A woman brushed past Morgan and he stared at her as he rubbed his shoulder. The light that he saw allowed him to realize she was magic. An internal twist showed the universal medical symbol that glowed dully, as well as crossed wand and sword that stood for battle magic.

Since his first encounter with magic, his innate ability had grown. His family, from his father's side, used to be considered as some of the best seers of all time. The trait had gone dormant sometime ago and Morgan's father never had the chance to tell him. When Hermione had awoken his powers, they presented themselves as strongly as ever.

He could now see anyone who had magic, and if he looked at him or her the right way, he could see what he or she excelled in. He could also see if a person was lying, if something was poisonous. Finally he could make things that were far away appear larger, and see things in finer detail.

The woman exited on the elevator and Morgan turned back around and wandered through the quiet wooden walled and wooden desk filled area of his department. He had left the Bureau after five more years and now worked in the UK as part of the muggle/magical defense team. Working along side him was Reid and Hotch. The three had come to the UK as a unit, as per their contract conditions. That was more than a few years ago. Reid and Hotch didn't seem to have much of a choice, Hotch's son Jack had been discovered as a muggleborn and Hermione had taken a job at Hogwarts.

Upon the capture of Greyback Hermione had been welcomed back to the UK with more than a few open arms. She refused, for as long as she could, however when she and Reid became with child she decided that a move back to her roots was the best decision.

Reid and Hermione had married two years after the Maine case, and only after Reid having asked her over twenty times. She never relented, it was only when she proposed did they become engaged. Their daughter, four-year-old Arriety was a force to be recon with. They had another daughter, three-year-old Mirabella, and a set of two-year-old twins, the boys Emrys and Rhys. Rumor was that Hermione was pregnant yet again, though she swore the last time that it had happened that she would kill Reid if they had any more children.

Morgan sat down at his desk in his office with a sigh and rotated his shoulder. Two years ago he had been unfortunate enough to tangle with some nasty humanoid creatures. One had bit him on the shoulder, and unfortunately the wound would still ache from time to time, especially when the cold weather was coming.

Hotch had settled down with a nice witch by the name of Cordelia Sneinger, now Hotchner and he had formally adopted her two girls Ysmay and Verity. Though Verity was a nice enough girl, Morgan did everything to avoid Ysmay who did everything that she could to all but stalk him. His baby girl had stayed in the US, though they visited often enough. She and Kevin had married, and they couldn't leave their jobs. Not that he could blame her, there was nothing for her to do in his new line of work, and wizards didn't leave electronic paper trails.

A skirt clad thigh placing itself on the corner of his desk brought Morgan out of his reveling. Morgan looked up to meet the smoky blue eyes of Seraphina Fawcett. She worked in the office over and her job was much like JJ's had been. Fawcett had been in the year above Hermione at Hogwarts, though her house was Ravenclaw. A dark curl landed on her shoulder and a smirk laid across well cared for lips.

"I'm sorry, did I startle you?" She asked and Morgan could see that she was playing with him. She was definitely one of the good ones in the department, flirty but never touchy or in need of a relationship. And, she never took his overall lack of magic for granted.

"You know you did, now what'd you want?" Morgan asked as he playfully put his hand on her thigh, knowing that they both knew it meant nothing.

"Oh, you know. Looking for a date to tonight's party." Seraphina replied, inspecting her nails.

"Hm?" Morgan asked, feeling relaxed. Seraphina burned in Morgan's sight like she always did, a bit of medical magic as well as the magical symbols for the sight, much like what he had.

"The party you know, at Reid's?" She kicked off one of her shoes and placed a nylon-clad foot on Morgan's pants.

"Right." Morgan replied feeling slightly dumb. This was the reason why he was suspecting another pregnancy; Spencer and Hermione had this horrible habit of announcing pregnancies at parties that they throw for themselves. "And you want me to be your date?"

Seraphina smiled and tapped him with her foot. "Bingo."

Morgan grinned and shoved her foot off him. "Well, that means you better get out. If I want to leave here at a decent enough hour to shower and look my best, then I better get to work."

Seraphina made a sound of victory before fist pumping and exiting the office. Tonight would be a night to remember.

Reid wrapped his arms around Hermione and pulled her tightly to his body. These past nearly ten years with Hermione had been a blessing. He had a woman that he loved, a great job, and great kids. Who would have ever suspected him to be such a baby maker. When he and Hermione had gotten tested and the tests came back negative for all possible markers- including the hereditary predisposition for schizophrenia, they had gone full steam and never looked back.

Nuzzling her wild hair out of the lay, Reid laid a trail of kisses from her collarbone up her neck to just below her ear. Placing his lips against the appendage he whispered, "I love you."

Hermione smiled and threaded her fingers with his. When she first met Spencer she had been all but ready to remove herself completely from the magical world. She was done, absolutely one hundred percent done. Being with Spencer, however, made her fall back in love with the world that had so jaded her. His boy-like wonder about all things magical had rekindled that spark in her that had all but gone out.

She now taught charms at Hogwarts, as well as a mythology to monster course. She and her husband lived in a quaint little home in Hogsmeade, and she couldn't be happier. Arriety took after both her parents with her quick wit and basically uncontrollable hair. Mirabella was as sweet as could be, someone who truly took after her father in her kind nature. The boys, well, the boys had already been corrupted by Fred and George.

She pulled herself away from Spencer and took another tray out to the backyard where there were tables placed for the festivity. As a form of decoration, Hermione had hung and floated a variety of paper and real lanterns throughout the backyard. Twinkling lights in the bushes added to the affect of mystical magical wonderland.

Four flying balls of blonde hair zipped past her and Hermione laughed as her children chased the fireflies that had come out. Her backyard was quickly filling with guests who ranged from ministry workers to life-long friends. A large conglomerate of redheads arrived and Hermione internally steeled herself for the assault. Bill and the twins were great assets to have, and Mister Weasley was another good friend. The others, however, still viewed her with hostility that she couldn't shake. However, to invite one Weasley was to invite them all.

There was Ron with his wife, Lavender. He was followed by a trail of small red headed children that all belonged to him: Thea, Thora, James, Jasper, Lane, Ithyll, and in Lavender's arms, baby Ivya. As soon as word had gotten to Ron that Hermione was in a serious relationship with someone, and had received a marriage proposal he had proposed to Lavender on the spot. Within a month of their marriage she was pregnant and had been popping out babies ever since.

Ginny and Harry had a few kids, James, Albus, Lilly, Rose, Leo and Griffin. Bill and Fleur had one girl, Percy had two girls and another boy on the way. Fred and George were still stark bachelors, however Hermione was pretty certain that Fred was secretly seeing a girl and that George preferred men.

Hotch, Cordelia, Verity, Jack, and Ysmay arrived followed by a few floos of Penelope and Kevin as well as JJ and her husband, Rossi and Emily. Morgan arrived with Seraphina in tow, along with a few others from Reid's department. A flood of other former Hogwarts students and current Hogwarts employees swept in and the party was full to bursting.

It was an hour later when Reid found Hermione hiding in the bathroom by the kitchen. She was washing her face as an excuse, however he knew his wife better than that. She had just recently finished a lengthy encounter with Molly and that was never good.

He rubbed his hands along her shoulders in an effort to comfort her. "I take it things didn't go well?" He asked softly as he alternating in applying pressure and releasing the tense muscles.

"She's such a bitch." Hermione murmured and Spencer choked. Molly must have said something really bad for Hermione to have such a response.

"What was it this time?" Spencer asked gently as he turned her around so that she faced him and was leaning back on the sink.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes before placing her arms around her husband's neck. "Was I sure that you are what I want? Was I sure that you weren't being unfaithful. You know, the twins are still single and they love my children like they were their own."

Spencer winced. Molly had never warmed up to him, and his 'stealing' of Hermione from the Weasley clan. "She's quite cheerful today, isn't she."

Hermione laughed. "She's as good as she ever is."

They kissed softly at first, however it wasn't long before Spencer was lifting up Hermione and placing her on the sink. They were wrestling with her shirt when the door burst open and the two were met with the sight of Morgan and Seraphina stumbling back into the bathroom blindly as they kissed and groped each other.

"Ahem." Spencer coughed and his two collogues ceased their movements as though they had been shot. They turned, Seraphina looking triumphant and Morgan looking sheepish.

"Having a good evening?" Hermione asked with amusement clearly showing.

Morgan coughed. "As good as it ever is." Seraphina whacked him smartly on the arm for his tart reply.

Hermione and Spencer shared a look before vacating the bathroom. Before they shut the door Hermione called. "Condoms are in the vanity."

When Seraphina and Morgan returned to the party sometime later Spencer stood, tapping his glass to gain everyone's attention.

"Hello, everyone. I would like to thank you all for being here." He paused. "I know that there's some kind of betting pool out there, and whoever is the winner- my wife and I deserve a piece as we are the goods be bet upon. I expect slight compensation for your winnings." There were chuckles throughout his audience and he saw quite a few fist bumps.

"As you can possibly guess what we're about to announce-" Spencer started and Hermione interrupted him.

"Why don't you all tell us what we're about to tell you." There was more laughter before the crowd replied.

"You're pregnant." You could hear Morgan loudly calling 'again!'.

Spencer smiled proudly and wrapped an arm around his wife. "This is true. Again, compensation for bet winnings has been requested."

By the end of the night Hermione and Spencer had pocked upwards of thirty galleons, not bad for a night's effort.

"Look at her, Spencer." Hermione cooed as she rocked the baby in her arms. She was another blonde not that it surprised the two. Spencer kissed her sweaty brow.

"What shall we call her?" He asked. They always went through the same process now. They would talk to her stomach using a new name each week. From there they would decide what to name the child. In the end, however it was always Hermione's decision. She did carry and birth the child, so it was only right.

Hermione stared down at her newest daughter and weighed her options. "Lorna." She announced, her mind decided.

Spencer nodded for a second before pausing. "I know that Lorna was not even close to the top of the pile. Don't tell me that you chose it because that name was my favourite."

Hermione smiled up at her husband and scooted over in bed to allow room for him. There had been major vaginal tearing this time, so Hermione would still be bedridden for a long while. It didn't mean that she couldn't have company. Spencer entered the bed and wrapped an arm around her, and for good measure, one of his legs.

"I want this name to be yours, Spencer." She responded, feeling tired. "You've already given me so much joy in my life- letting you win this once isn't too difficult." Hermione told him as she watched his fingers glide along their child.

Spencer sighed. "I appreciate the gesture, but that's not how the whole carrying, birthing, naming deal goes."

Hermione scoffed. "Screw the deal. This is your girl- I feel it. Something about her screams daddy's girl like no other."

Spencer couldn't help but smile as a tight feeling welled in his chest. Hermione was a joy to him, and had been from the moment that they met. He looked down at his daughter, who was now clutching the tip of his finger in her tiny hand.

"Hello Lorna." He paused. "I'm your dad." That word still caught him in the chest. Who'd've ever thought that he would be a father. Certainly not him. However, here he was with yet another miracle- all ten fingers and toes accounted for.

It seemed so long ago that Harry and alerted him to finding Hermione in Greyback's shack, exceedingly harmed but alive. He almost lost her again, it had been touch and go with her wounds, a large and invasive curse to her side. Greyback had been administered the kiss and he had once again proposed to Hermione. He did it again and again over the years. When she finally got down on one knee and asked him to marry her, it was like his world had exploded The hegemonic masculinity issue aside, nothing could have made him happier at that moment. Two years of marriage had led to their first child and then a roller coaster of births and challenges.

Leaning down he first kissing his daughter's head, and then turned to face his wife. His wonderful, glorious wife. "I love you, more than you could ever imagine." He whispered to her.

Hermione began to cry. "I love you too, Spencer." They kissed and Spencer held them both as his two ladies fell asleep.

When Spencer finished hugging his older children he sent them on to their mother and turned to their youngest. "Lorna." He stated seriously and her small face frowned back at him. She was so aged for someone so young, and so intelligent. Out of all his children, she was the one that he could relate to the most. At eleven she had already graduated high school, and now was about to enter Hogwarts. She was his star. Her green eyes stared up at him from beneath blonde lashed and her lips quivered.

"You'll be fine." He said, feeling helpless. She would struggle so hard at Hogwarts, desperately wanting to fit in, but being unable. Out of the corner of his eye Spencer spotted Gryffin and Leo, Harry's twins that were mere months older than Lorna. Gryffin was a bully, though don't ever say that to his parents, but Leo on the other hand was a sweet child who was already half in love with Lorna.

His daughter through herself into his arms and Spencer had to fight back the choking feeling in his chest and the prickling behind his eyes. His little girl was about to leave and go to a world where he couldn't follow, for all his intelligence.

"Go get them, my little song bird." He murmured to her and felt her nod on response. With a last squeeze of goodbye Lorna hesitated before pulling back. Spencer put a guiding hand on her shoulder as he turned her to face the train, but then let go. She had to take this first step by herself. It had to be her decision, and no one else's.

She took it.

* * *

**I hope that you all enjoyed this epilogue. Seraphina, btw, is not an OC, but an actual character from the Harry Potter books. I love searching through the booknotes and finding the characters that are only mentioned once or twice or only in passing. She is one of those characters. I personally dislike OCs and usually reading a story that has them is a total turn off.**

**I hope that you all enjoyed this piece. I kind of wanted to bring it around full circle. Hermione brought Spencer out of his shell, and gave him confidence and now he was doing it for his daughter. Anyway, again it has been a pleasure writing for you and don't be afraid to check out my other works! This is so emotional for me, and I am surprised by my reaction and attachment.**

**Oh gosh, the end of an era.**

**Cheers,**

**iBless!**


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